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AlEEICAI ELOQUENCE; 



CONSISTING OF 



ORATIONS, ADDRESSES, AND SERMONS; 



BEING THE 



LITERARY REMAINS 



REV. JONATHAN MAXCY, D.D. 

SUCCESSIVELY PRESIDENT OF THREE AMERICAN COLLEGES ; BROWN UNIVERSITY, UNION 
COLLEGE, AND SOUTH CAROLINA COLLEGE. 



WITH A MEMOIR OF HIS LIFE, 



BY ROMEO ELTON, D.D. 

k.TE PROFESSOR OF THE GREEK AND LATIN LANGUAGES AND LITERATURE IN 
BROWN UNIVERSITY, PROVIDENCE, R. I. 



NEW YORK: 
PUBLISHED BY ALEXANDER V. BLAKE, 

NO. 77 FULTON STREET. 
1845. 




TO THE PUPILS OF 



THE REV. JONATHAN MAXCY, D. D., 

WHOSE MEMORY IS CHERISHED BY THEM 

WITH AFFECTIONATE VENERATION 

FOR HIS EMINENT TALENTS, 

PROFOUND AND VARIED ERUDITION, 

AND MORAL WORTH, 

THIS VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED. 




^^ 



PREFACE. 



In presenting to the public this collection of the 
Sermons, Orations and Addresses of President Maxcy, 
the Editor believes that he shall render an acceptable 
service both to the interests of the Christian religion 
and to the republic of letters. Dr Maxcy's writings 
are surpassed by few in intrinsic excellence and value, 
and are entitled to an elevated rank among the produc- 
tions of American literature. The intelligent and 
cultivated reader will perceive in all ofthem genius, re- 
fined taste, beauty of imagery, and vigor of thought and 
diction. 

The brief Memoir of his Life is a task which the 
Editor would gladly have declined, could some one of 
Dr. Maxcy's intimate friends or gifted pupils have 
been induced to undertake it. He deeply regrets that 
he never had an opportunity of seeing this accomplished 
and eloquent divine, and of witnessing the force of his 
reasoning, his command of felicitous language, his dis- 
cursive and brilliant imagination, and his extraordinary 
power over the passions of men, that he might be able 
more accurately to delineate the features of his mind, 
and the minute lineaments of his character. Although 



PREFACE. 



great exertions have been made by him to obtain re- 
miniscences of President Maxcy to enrich the Memoir, 
yet they have been unsuccessful ; and the facts embod- 
ied in this sketch have been derived almost entirely 
from conversations with his pupils and friends, and 
other scattered sources of information. He is convinced, 
therefore, that he needs the candor of the public with 
respect to the imperfect miniature here given of this 
remarkable man. 

On all subjects President Maxcy thought for himself, 
and the Editor considers that it is a mere act of justice 
to let him express his own views without comment. 
He cannot, however, be considered as pledged to every 
opinion of the Author, or the inferences which may be 
drawn from them. Dr. Maxcy possessed that catholic 
spirit which resulted from deep piety and high mental 
endowments, and he could not substitute the shibboleth 
of a party, in the place of love to God, and the practical 
exhibition of the Christian virtues. His great and no- 
ble soul was incapable of contracting itself into the lit- 
tleness of bigotry. 

The labors of the writer in editing this volume will 
be amply compensated, should it be made instrumental 
in the promotion of sound literature, of patriotism and 
of piety. 

ROMEO ELTON. 

J^eiv Haven, June, 1844. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE. 

Memoir of the Rev. Jonathan Maxcy, D. D. - 9 

Hon. Virgil Maxcy, _ _ _ - - 29 
Epitaph written by Dr. Maxcy's father, - - - 30 
Biographical notice of the Hon. Samuel Eddy, LL. D. - 32 
Biographical notice of President Manning, . - 34 
President Manning's Address delivered to the Graduates of Rhode- 
Island College, _____ 35 
Biographical notice of President Messer, - - - 39 



SERMONS. 

1 . A Sermon on the Existence of God demonstrated from the 

works of Creation, - - - - 43 

2. A Discourse on the Atonement, delivered Nov. 11, 1796, 53 

3. A Discourse on the Atonement, delivered Nov. 25, 1796, 66 

4. A Sermon preached at the Dedication of the Meeting House, 

in Cumberland, R. L, - - - - 83 

5. A Sermon preached at the Annual Convention of the War- 

ren Association, ----- 99 

6. A Sermon preached before the Providence Female Charita- 

ble Society, - - - - - 119 

7. A Sermon preached before the Charleston Baptist Associa- 

tion, at their Annual Convention, - - 133 

8. A Funeral Sermon occasioned by the death of President 

Manning, - - - - - 149 

9. A Sermon on the death of Welcome Arnold, Esq., - 175 

10. A Sermon on the death of Mrs. Mary Gano, consort of the 

Rev. Stephen Gano, _ _ _ _ i87 

11. A Funeral Sermon preached before both branches of the Leg- 

islature of the State of South Carolina, - - 205 

12. A Sermon on the death of Mr. John Sampson Bobo, - 231 



CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

13. A Sermon delivered to the Senior Class in Rhode-Island Col- 

lege, Sept. 3, 1800, - - - - 247 

14. An Anniversary Sermon delivered on Lord's day, Dec. 1, 

1816, being the day previous to the Commencement of 
the South-Carolina College, - - - 261 

15. A Discourse delivered July 4, 1819, - - 279 



ADDRESSES. 

1. An Address delivered to the Graduates of Rhode-Island Col- 

lege, September 3, 1794, - ' - - 299 

2. An Address delivered to the Graduates of Rhode-Island Col- 

lege, September 5, 1798, - - - 309 

3. An Address delivered to the Candidates for the Baccalaureate 

of Rhode-Island College September 2, 1801, - 317 

4. An Address delivered to the Graduates of Rhode-Island Col- 

lege, September 1, 1802, - - - - 331 

5. An Address delivered to the Baccalaureate of the South- 

Carolina College, December 2, 1816, - - 341 



ORATIONS. 

1. An Oration delivered before the Providence Association of 

Mechanics and Manufacturers, April 13, 1795, - 351 

2. An Oration delivered July 4, 1795, . - - 367 

3. An Oration delivered July 4, 1799, - - - 381 
An Introductory Lecture to a course on the philosophical 

principles of Rhetoric and Criticism, - - 397 



APPENDIX. 

PRESIDENT MESSER'S ADDRESSES TO THE GRADU- 
ATES OF BROWN UNIVERSITY. 

1. An Address to the Graduates, Sept. 4, 1811, - 415 

2. A Discourse to the Senior Class, on the Sunday previous to 

the Commencement 1799, - - - 421 

3. An Address to the Graduates, Sept. 7, 1803, - 425 

4. An Address to the Graduates, Sept. 5, 1810, 445 



MEMOIR 



REV. JONATHAN MAXCY, D. D., 

SECOND PRESIDENT OF BROWN UNIVERSITY.* 



Observation upon the ways of Divine Providence 
evinces, that, not unfrequentlj, there is a coinci- 
dence of circumstances calculated to develope and ma- 
ture the energies of individuals, and to prepare them 
to fill critical and important stations in society. Many 
illustrious characters in sacred and profane history sub- 
stantiate this fact. Not to swell our pages, by advert- 
ing to many renowned worthies, we may see this truth 
illustrated in the subject of the following Memoir. 

* This Institution was incorporated February, 1764, as " The College or 
University in the English Colony of Rhode Island." It was orignally estab- 
lished at Warren, where, in the year ]769, the first Commencement was cele- 
brated. In the year 1770, it was removed to Providence, where, in the same 
year, the first College edifice was erected. It was denominated in common 
parlance "Rhode Island College," till the year 1804, when, in consequence of 
a donation from its munificent benefactor, the Hon. Nicholas Brown, of Provi- 
dence, the Corporation voted that this College should be "called and known 
by the name of Brown University." Mr. Brown's donations to this Insti- 
tution, at various times, exceed the sum of $100,00 

2 



:m 



10 MEMOIR. 

The Rev. Jonathan Maxcy, D. D., was born in 
Attleborough, Massachusetts, September 2, A. D. 1768. 
His earliest ancestor of whom any account has been 
obtained, was his great-grandfather, Alexander Maxcy, 
who came from Gloucester, Massachusetts, and settled 
in Attleborough about 1721. His grandfather, Josiah 
Maxcy, Esq., who died in 1772, was for many years a 
member of the colonial Legislature of Massachusetts, 
and throughout a long life, enjoyed the esteem and con- 
fidence of the community. Dr. Maxcy was the eld- 
est son of Levi and Ruth Maxcy, whose maid- 
en name was Newell, the daughter of Jacob New- 
ell.* His mother was a woman of strong mind 
and devoted piety, and beautifully exemplified the 
practical influence of the Christian religion, by the uni- 
form consistency which marked the wholet enor of her 
life. Upon her devolved the delightful duty of im- 
planting in the mind of her son those seeds of truth and 
righteousness, which should in after years bud and 
blossom into usefulness. She had the happiness to see 
her son eminent for literature, and successively elevated 
to the presidency of three colleges. This excellent wo- 
man died in 1815, aged 72, having been a worthy mem- 
ber of the first Baptist Church in Attleborough fifty- 
two years. His father was one of the most respectable 
inhabitants of the town in which he lived. He was a 
man of sound understanding, and occasionally amused 
himself in writing verses.f 

Jonathan Maxcy, the subject of the following nar- 
rative, gave proofs of extraordinary talent, and maturity 
of intellect at an early age. Often when a boy, he was 
wont to give his companions in the neighborhood speci- 
mens of his extemporaneous oratory, which would have 
done credit to riper years, 

- See Note A. t See Note B. 



MEMOIR. 11 

The proofs of genius and devotion to study which 
young Maxcy had thus early evinced, seemed to indi- 
cate to his parents the propriety and expediency of 
giving him a liberal education. He was placed, there- 
fore, preparatory for admission to college, in the Acade- 
my at Wrentham, Massachusetts, over which the Rev. 
William Williams presided with distinguished ability. 
Of this eminent instructor he was accustomed to speak 
in terms of high respect, and was much attached to him 
in after life.* 

In 1783, at the age of fifteen, he entered Brown Uni- 
versity. While an undergraduate, his love of study, 
brilliant intellect, urbanity of manners and correct de- 
portment conciliated the high regard both of his in- 
structors and fellow students. His studies in college 
served to sharpen and invigorate his mental powers, and 
he soon became distinguished as an accomplished 
scholar. His genius was remarkable for its versa- 
tility, and to whatever branch of knowledge he applied 
himself he was sure to excel. As a writer, his compo- 
sitions were recommended as models to his classmates. 
His productions were eminent for delicacy of taste, and 
his conceptions were embodied in language of the most 
classic purity. Thus early were laid the foundations of 
his future eminence. He graduated in 1787, with the 
highest honors of his class, on which occasion he de- 

• Mr. Williams was a member of the first class that graduated at Brown 
University in 1769, and from 1789 to 1818 he was a member of the Board of 
Fellows ofthat Institution. He opened an Academy for teaching languages, 
arts and sciences in 1776. He educated more than one hundred students, the 
majority of whom graduated at his Alma Mater ^ and many of them became 
distinguished in literary and professional life. Among his pupils were the late 
Hon. David R. Williams, Governor of South Carolina, and the Hon. Tristam 
Burges, LL. D., late Professor of Oratory and Belles Lettres in Brown 
University, and for many years a Representative in Congress from Rhode 
Island, whose speeches won for him a very high rank as a statesman and as a 
parliamentary orator. 



v*^:^;*. 



12 MEMOIR. 

livered a Poem, "On the Prospects of America, and 
the Valedictory Oration."* 

Immediately aftei wards, a vacancy in a tutorship oc- 
curred, and such were the qualifications of young Max- 
cy, though yet a minor, that he was appointed to fill it. 
This coincidence imparted a new impulse to the n ble 
aspirings of his unfolding powers. During four years 
he discharged the duties of this office, with such ability 
and wisdom, as to secure to himself the popularity and 
respect of the Students, the Faculty and the Corpora- 
tion of the University. 

About this time, he became the subject of religious 
impressions, and joined the first Baptist Church in 
Providence, then under the pastoral care of the Rev. 
Dr. Manning. He was licensed to preach by that 
Church, April 1, 1790, and soon after invited to supply 
their pulpit for severa' months. Dr. Manning having re- 
signed his pastoral office. In this new and important 
station he shone with the greatest brilliancy. Possess- 
ing an active, vigorous and comprehensive mind, his 
faculties were continually improving by diligence 
and application. He soon attained a high reputation 
as a preacher, and such was the opinion that Church 
entertained of his talents and piety, that, in the follow- 
ing year, he w^as invited to take the pastoral charge. 
After mature deliberation he resigned his tutorship and 
accepted that important and respectable station.! 

Mr. Maxcy was ordainec) as Pastor of the first Bap- 
tist Church in Providence, September 8, 1791. Rev. 
Samuel Stillman, D. D., of Boston, Mass. preached 

* See No' 6 C. 

t Upon his resignation tlie following resolution was passed by the Corpora- 
tion of the College, April 13, 1791. " llesolvod that Mr. Maxcy 's request for 
dismission from the office of Tutor be granted, and that the thanks of this 
Corporation be presented to him for his faithful services therein." 



MEMOIR. 13 

the ordination sermon, Rev. Hezekiah Smith, D. D., of 
Haverhill, Mass. gave the charge. Rev. Isaac Backus, 
of Middleborough, Mass. presented the right hand of 
fellowship, Rev. Benjamin Foster, D. D., of New York, 
made the introductory prayer, and the consecrating 
prayer was made by Rev. William Van Horn, of Scotch 
Plains, N. J. 

On the same day that he was ordained, he was ap- 
pointed by the Corporation of the College, Professor of 
Divinity. He was also, at the same time, elected a 
Trustee of the College, 

Mr. Maxcy entered upon the discharge of his minis- 
terial duties with earnestness, and a deep sense of his 
responsibility. His sermons were prepared with great 
care and accuracy, and delivered in a manner so chaste, 
dignified and impressive that they were always heard 
with profound attention and delight. In his pulpit ad- 
dresses and pastoral visitations, he delighted in admin- 
istering balm to the sorrowful, and in teaching the de- 
sponding where to look for consolation. 

Mr. Maxcy was advancing to the acme of fame in 
pulpit oratory, when another more extensive field of 
usefulness was opened to him. President Manning, on 
the Sabbath morning of July 24, 1791, was seized with 
an apoplectic fit, and expired on the ensuing Friday.* 
The corporation of the College did not long deliber- 
ate as to his successor. At the annual Commencement, 
the next year, Mr. Maxcy was unanimously elected 
President of the College, and resigned the pastorship 
of the church, September 8, 1792, on the same day that 
he was placed in the presidential chair. For this ardu- 
ous and honorable station he was pre-eminently quali- 
fied. He entered immediately upon the discharge of 

* See note D. 



14 MEMOIR. 

his official duties, and gave to them all his energies. 
Here his popular career commenced under the most fa- 
vorable auspices. At the Commencement succeeding 
his inauguration, the College was illuminated, and a 
transparency was placed in the attic story displaying his 
name, with — " President 24 years old." The Universi- 
ty, over which he presided with distinguished honor to 
himself and benefit to the public, flourished under his 
administration, and his fame was extended over every 
section of the Union. The splendor of his genius, and 
his brilliant talents as an orator and a divine, were seen 
and admired by all. Between the President and his 
associates in office, there was an intercourse of mind and 
feeling the most harmonious and delightful. He had 
nothing of that dictatorial, imperious and overbearing 
spirit which persons, who are elevated to power, are 
too apt to assume. He endeared himself to the stu- 
dents, by his courteous and conciliatory manners, and 
his paternal solicitude for their welfare, while his vari- 
ous and exact knowledge, sound judgment, refined taste 
and impressive eloquence, commanded their respect and 
supported his authority. President Maxcy beautifully 
exemplified the maxim, 

" Ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes, 
Emollit mores, nee sinit esse feros," 

His government was reasonable, firm and uniform, 
and marked in its administration by kindness, frankness 
and dignity. He did not attempt to support his author- 
ity, as is sometimes done, by distance, austerity and 
menace, but his pupils were addressed and treated as 
young gentlemen. He well knew human nature, and 
especially the character of young men, and hence his 



MEMOIR. 15 

appeals were made to the understanding, the magna- 
nimity and the conscience of his pupils.* 

In speaking of his presidency over Brown Universi- 
ty it has been justly observed, that he was one " whose 
name and fame are identified with its reputation, and 
whose mildness, dignity and goodness equalled only by 
his genius, learning and eloquence, subdued all envy, 
made Si admirers, friends, and gave him an irresistible 
sway over the minds of those placed under his care."t 

Under his administration the College acquired a rep- 
utation for belles-lettres and eloquence inferior to no 
seminary of learning in the United States. His pu- 
pils saw in him an admirable model for their imitation, 
and the influence of his pure and cultivated taste was 
seen in their literary performances. Though destitute 
of funds, and of patronage from the legislature of the 
state, guided by his genius and wisdom, the College 
flourished and diffused its light over every part of our 
country. It sent forth a constellation of accomplished 
scholars, whose eloquence has glowed upon the altar, 
guarded the rights and privileges of the people, and 
shone in the halls of Congress. 

Mr. Maxcy's first publication was a Sermon occasion- 
ed by the death of President Manning, delivered July 

* This system of government, we are convinced, will be found, in almost 
every instance, to be the best. The writer of these lines can say, from hia 
own experience, and he hopes he may do it without the charge of egotism, 
that after having been a Professor in a college for the last eighteen years, and 
coming daily in contact with young men of varied dispositions, he never met 
with an instance of personal disrespect from a student Let an instructor ad- 
dress and treat his pupils as young gentlemen, and endear himself to them 
permanently by his kindness, and by cherishing the virtuous principles of our 
nature, and he will be able to do what stern authority, pedagogical arrogance 
and a tyrannical mode of government can never accomplish. Let his appeals 
be made to the conscience, and they will imbibe a delicate, noble sensibility to 
character, and acquire a high respect for order and decorum. 

t See the Hon. Virgil Maxcy's Discourse before the Phi Beta Kappa So- 
ciety of Brown University, delivered September 4, 1833, 



It: 



16 MEMOIR. 

31, 1791. In this Sermon, which is written in a style 
chaste and elegant, he pays an eloquent tribute to his 
beloved and revered friend and preceptor." He express- 
es his opinions with independence, and expounds them 
with ability. The Sermon is replete with a vigor of 
expression, an elevation of thought, and a cogency of 
reasoning rarely found in so young a writer. 

During his Presidency of Brown Universii^^ Dr. 
Maxcy published nine Sermons, four Addresses to 
Graduates and three Orations. They are all written 
with great beauty and felicity of diction, and exhibit 
vast attainments and a mind of the first order. Their 
number and variety, considering his duties as President 
and his other numerous avocations, evince his indvastry 
and the extent of his capacity. 

One of his most celebrated productions is his Sermon 
on the Existence and Attributes of God, delivered in 
Providence, in 1795. The striking effect which it pro- 
duced is still fresh in the recollection of many ; and the 
impression was no doubt very much deepened by the 
manner of its delivery. The natural element of his 
mind was greatness, and on subjects of this nature, his 
powers were displayed to uncommon advantage. Here 
he made his hearers feel the grasp of his intellect, and 
subdued them by his logical arguments, his profound 
reasoning, and his deep pathos. In identifying the 
sympathies of his hearers with the developement and 
progress of the subject, and, in elevating the best affec- 
tions of the heart, he was unrivalled. His train of 
thought in this sermon is luminous and philosophical, 
and it attracts our attention by its sublime sentiments 
and beautiful imagery, expressed in classical and forci- 
ble language. 

In November, 1796, President Maxcy published two 
Discourses on the Doctrine of the Atonement, which 



MEMOIR. 17 

were delivered in the College Chapel. He possessed, 
in an eminent degree, the art of explaining the most 
abstract subjects in an obvious and convincing manner, 
and his style is as clear as the most limpid stream. These 
Discourses afford a striking contrast to many of the flim- 
sy and superficial sermons of the present day. His 
views on the Atonement are in unison with those of 
President Edwards, and for acute and powerful reason- 
ing, we think the intelligent reader will rank them 
among the ablest productions, on this subject, which our 
country has produced. 

President Maxcy's reputation was now established 
as one of the first scholars and divines in the United 
States, and in 1801, when only thirty -three years of age, 
the honorary degree of Doctor of Divinity was confer- 
red on him by Harvard University. In the language 
of Dr. Samuel Johnson, "Academical honors would 
have more value, if they were always bestowed with 
equal judgment." 

As a pulpit orator, Dr. Maxcy, during his Presiden- 
cy of Brown University, was powerful and fascinating, 
and wherever he preached, the place of worship was 
crowded. In the eloquent language of one of his pu- 
pils, " What man who knew him, can forget Maxcy, 
the disciple and successor of Manning ? Although our 
country abounds in able and learned divines, and the 
pulpit is everywhere adorned with eloquence : yet who, 
among them all, does in the enchanting attribute of ut- 
terance, approach so near as Maxcy approached to the 
glorious character of Him " who spake as never man 
spake." The eloquence of Maxcy was mental : You 
seemed to hear the soul of the man ; and each one of 
the largest assembly, in the most extended place of 
3 



%$ 



18 MEMOIR. 

worship, received the slighest impulse of his silver voice 
as if he stood at his very ear. So entirely would he 
enchain attention, that in the most thronged audience, 
you heard nothing but him, and the pulsations of your 
own heart. His utterance was not more perfect, than 
his whole discourse was instructive and enchanting.^ 

As Dr. Maxcy's celebrity as a teacher and an elo- 
quent divine, became known and appreciated, he was 
invited to more eligible positions, in distant parts of 
the country. 

In 1802, after the death of the Rev. Jonathan Ed- 
wards, D. D., President of Union College, at Schenec- 
tady, New- York, Dr. Maxcy was elected to the Presi- 
dency of that Institution. Here he officiated with dis- 
tinguished reputation, until 1804, when he was called 
to another sphere of action.f 

In that year, upon the establishment of the South- 
Carolina College, at Columbia, South-Carolina, he re- 
ceived the unsolicited appointment of President of that 
College. He accepted of the Presidency of the South- 
Carolina College, and entered upon his official duties 
with the fond anticipation of finding a clime more con- 
genial to his delicate constitution. He was now in 
the zenith of his reputation. His brilliant and attract- 
ive taLents, the variety and extent of his erudition, and 
his agreeable and refined manners soon gained him the 
esteem of all classes of society. In this arduous and 
honorable station, he labored and shone for sixteen years. 
His eminent talents for instruction and discipline were 
now called into full exercise. The College was now in 
its infancy, and he devoted himself to its interests with 
great fidelity. He continued to preside over the South- 

* See Hon. Tristam Burges' Oration delivered before the Rhode Island 
Federal Adfclphi, Sept. 9, 1831. 
t See Note E. 



MEMOIR. IQ 

Carolina College till his death. Under his popular 
government that Institution attained a high rank and 
reputation among the colleges in the United States. 

During the period of his presidency, he was often 
called to preach on public and extraordinary occasions. 
This contributed to his celebrity as a President, and 
made him known and admired in every part of the 
State. 

The following extract of a letter from a gentleman 
residing in Columbia, to his friend in Charleston, South- 
Carolina, exhibits the impressive effects of his elo- 
quence, and the high estimation, in which he was held 
at the South. It was written but a few months before 
his death, and was published in the Charleston City Ga- 
zette. It shows that while Dr. Maxcy's knowledge was 
continually increasing, his mind had lost nothing of its 
original vigor. 

Columbia, July 6, 1819. 
" Last Sunday we went to hear Dr. Maxcy. It being 
the 4th of July, it was a discourse appropriate to that 
eventful period. I had always been led to believe the 
Doctor an eloquent and impressive preacher ; but had 
no idea, till now, that he possessed such transcendent 
power. I never heard such a stream of eloquence. — 
It flowed from his lips, even like the oil from Aaron's 
head. Every ear was delighted, every heart was ela- 
ted, every bosom throbbed with gratitude. Such ap- 
propriate metaphor ! such exalted ideas of Deity ! and 
delivered with all the grace, the force, the elegance of a 
youthful orator ! I was sometimes in pain, lest this good 
old man should outdo himself and become exhausted ; 
but as he advanced in his discourse, he rose in anima- 
tion, till at length he reached heights the most sublime, 



20 ^fi^. 



MEMOIR. 



and again descended with the same facility with which 
he soared. So far as I can judge, (and your partiality, 
I know, will allow me to be no mean critic) there was 
not heard the slightest deviation from the most correct 
enunciation and grammatical arrangement ; all the pow- 
ers of art seemed subservient to his absolute control. 
In short, I never heard any thing to compare to Dr. 
Maxcy's Sermon, in all the course of my life ; and, old 
as I am, I would now walk even twenty miles through 
the hottest sands to listen to such another discourse. I 
am persuaded I shall never hear such another in this 
life." 

This excellent man, erudite scholar, successful teach- 
er, and eloquent divine expired in peace and in full 
expectation of the blessedness of the righteous, June 4, 
1820, aged fifty-two years. 

The death of an individual so admired and revered 
as President Maxcy spread a deep sorrow not only 
through his family, and the College over which he had 
so long presided, but through the State, and extensively 
through the Union. Science, virtue and religion 
mourned over the loss of one of their most gifted and 
illustrious sons. A brilliant luminary, which had long 
shed its bright and pure radiance over our country, 
was extinguished. His funeral was publicly solem- 
nized, and his remains were borne to the silent house 
appointed for all the living, upon the shoulders of his 
disconsolate pupils, by whom this great and good man 
was so affectionately beloved and revered. 

Dr. Maxcy, it is believed was appointed to the office 
of President the youngest, and officiated the longest in 
proportion to his years, of any person in the United 
States. He was connected with some college, either as 



<1<K 




MEMOIR. 



21 



a student or an officer, nearly thirty-eight out of the 
fifty -two years of his life. 

Dr. Maxcy married Miss Susan Hopkins, daughter 
of Commodore Esek Hopkins, of Providence, Rhode 
Island, a union to which he owed much of the happi- 
ness of his subsequent life. By her he had several 
daughters and four sons. All of his sons have been ^ 
liberally educated. His amiable widow still survives 
and is living in Columbia, South Carolina. 

In his person Dr. Maxcy was rather small of stature, 
of a fine form and well proportioned. All his move- 
ments wxre graceful and dignified. His features were 
regular and manly, indicating intelligence and benevo- 
lence ; and, especially, when exercised in conversation 
or public speaking, they were strongly expressive, and 
exhibited the energy of the soul that animated them. 

In closing this brief sketch, we subjoin a few particu- 
lars in relation to the character of Dr. Maxcy. 

As a scholar. Dr. Maxcy was one of the most learned 
men which our country has produced. Criticism, meta- 
physics, politics, morals, and theology all occupied his 
attention. His stores of knowledge were immense, 
and he had at all times the command over them. Like 
the celebrated Robert Hall, he appears to have early 
imbibed a predilection for the abtruse inquiries of meta- 
physical studies, and to have thoroughly understood the 
principles of the various systems of philosophy. To 
this circumstance was probably owing the clearness, 
precision and facility with which he could separate 
truth from error, and which enabled him to wield the 
powers of argumentation with so much success. He 
possessed in a very extraordinary degree the power of 
mental abstraction, and few persons could pursue a 
train of thought to equal extent, without the aid of 



n 



22 MEMOIR. 

writing, or retain their conceptions with a firmer 
grasp. 

Although the bias of his mind gave him a peculiar 
interest in the recondite studies of metaphysics, yet he 
was equally acquainted with the elegant and profound 
parts of science,and that not superficially but thoroughly. 
He cultivated with enthusiasm classical literature, the 
belles-lettres and the fine arts. He studied eloquence 
critically himself, and took great interest in the oratori- 
cal instructions of his pupils. Such was the prompti- 
tude and compass of his knowledge, that it seemed as 
if every subject that w^as incidentally introduced, was 
the one which he had been last occupied in investi- 
gating, and the one in which he was most minutely and 
extensively skilled. 

As an instructor. Dr. Maxcy possessed unusual abili- 
ty. His influence over his pupils was composed of 
all that genius,talent, experience and exalted reputation, 
could inspire. In his official station, he was conciliat- 
ing, and treated them with the kindness of a father. 
He used every exertion to enlighten their minds, and 
to instil into them the principles of virtue and piety. 
He delighted to assist and encourage those of his pu- 
pils who applied to him for patronage or advice. He 
entered into their concerns with the most lively interest, 
and with pleasure imparted to them the lights of his ex- 
perience and wisdom. The dignity and refinement of 
his manners, and his superior colloquial powers were 
greatly auxiliary in the introduction and discipline of 
the collegesover which he presided. He possessed a hap- 
py faculty of accommodating his instructions to the abili- 
ties and attainments of his pupils. His manner of im- 
parting instruction was unrivalled. He saw every sub^ 
ject as a whole, and presented it to his pupils in a most 



MEMOIR. 23 

attractive form. His Lecture Introductory to a course 
on Rhetoric and Criticism, we presume, will convey a 
good idea of his method of instruction and style of lec- 
turing. 

In the language of one his colleagues of the South- 
Carolina College, " As a teacher, Dr. Maxcy enjoyed a 
reputation higher, perhaps, than that of any other presi- 
dent of a college in the United States. His pupils all 
dwell with admiration, on the clearness and compre- 
hension of his ideas ; on the precision and aptness of 
his expressions. Many of these qualifications are, 
doubtless, to be attributed to his long experience as an 
instructor, which rendered his contemplation of the 
most abstract truths little more than a work of memory ; 
they may however, in a much greater degree, be as- 
cribed to his early devotion to such studies and to his 
unwearied endeavors to distinguish, between what is 
essential and what is adscititious, in every subject. His 
retired habits, as well as his mild and unassuming man- 
ners, also contributed to render his instructions at once 
imposing and delightful. The strongest evidences of 
his success are the gratitude and veneration, which his 
pupils, uniformly, evince for his memory."* 

His numerous pupils, in every yart of the Union, 
speak of him in terms of the most fervid eulogy, and all 
unite in pronouncing him as a teacher one of the most 
perfect models. " They often acknowledged that they 
acquired a clearer perception of the beauties or subtil- 
ties, or errors of a writer, by listening to his remarks 
upon them, than even by a studious perusal of the work 
itself. But this power was never otherwise employed, 
than as an instrument of good. Learning, in the hands 
of Dr. Maxcy, was always the handmaid of virtue and 

* See Prof. Henrj's Eulogy on Dr. Maxcy. 



24 MEMOIR. 

the champion of morals. While he expanded the minds 
of his pupils and poured large draughts of knowledge 
from his own capacious stores, he ever steadily attended 
to their improvement as men, as citizens and as Christ- 
ians ; and while he was a perfect master of the works 
of others, and at all times capable of demolishing their 
theories, and erecting others of his own, and therefore 
held, as it were, the minds of his pupils in his hands, he 
was ever careful to instil the purest orthodoxy in reli- 
gion, the most perfect morality,and the most consummate 
patriotism in all the duties and relations of the citi- 
zen.* 

As a preacher, Dr. Maxcy's great excellence con- 
sisted in the admirable proportion and harmony of all 
his powers. His conceptions were bold and striking, 
and expressed in a style pure, elegant and sublime. 
A profound and breathless silence, an intense feeling, 
and a delight amounting to rapture were the almost in- 
variable attendants of his preaching. The impression 
made by his discourses was, undoubtedly, very much 
deepened by the peculiar unction and fervor with which 
they were delivered. His manner was emphatically 
his own. There was no labored display, nothing tur- 
gid or affected, but every thing was easy, graceful, dig - 
nified and natural. Though his voice was not very 
powerful, yet it was full and melodious, and his enun- 
ciation so distinct that every syllable he uttered in the 
largest assembly, fell clearly on the ear of the most dis- 
tant hearer. His general manner of delivery was rath- 
er mild than vehement, and rather solemn than impetu- 
ous ; commencing in a moderate tone of voice, but be- 
coming more animated and impassioned as he proceed- 

*See a Sketch of the character of Dr. Maxcy in the Charleston City Gazette. 



MEMOIR. 25 

ed he gradually influenced the hearts and feelings of his 
audience. 

In the performance of the devotional exercises of 
worship, Dr. Maxcy greatly excelled. Prayer appear- 
ed to be his habitual element. His prayers were al- 
ways appropriate, and never failed to enkindle and ele- 
vate the devotions of the pious. His heart appeared to 
be melted and " his lips to be touched as with a live 
coal from off the altar," when he was engaged in this 
sacred and delightful duty. 

As an author, we think the intelligent reader, who 
peruses this volume, will accord to Dr. Maxcy a very 
high rank. His writings are not numerous, but they 
are models of simplicity and beauty, of sublimity and 
eloquence. 

His Sermons are imbued with simple, evangelical 
truth, rich in excellent practical remarks, and present 
to the humble and the pious new motives to religion. 
His Funeral Sermons are pathetic and sublime, and ex- 
cel in instructive trains of thought, and in their appli- 
cation to truths which relate to our highest interest. 

His Addresses to Graduates contain literary, moral 
and religious instruction of the highest importance to 
educated young men. They are replete with mature 
and sound wisdom for their guidance, expressed in lan- 
guage spirited, chaste and classical. 

Hi% Orations contain many splendid passages, and 
may be regarded as among the most finished and elo- 
quent of his productions. They show him to have been 
a warm friend to every institution which had for its ob- 
ject the promotion of knowledge, patriotism, virtue and 
piety. A spirit of benevolence and love to the human 
race are manifested in his Orations, teaching men to re- 
gard each other as fellow- citizens and brethren. In the 



26 MEMOIR. 

language of Cicero, he felt, that, " Caritate et benevo 
lentia sublata, omnis est e vita sublata jucunditas." 

Dr. Maxcy united in an eminent degree the quali- 
ties which command genuine esteem. As a man, he 
was amiable and beloved ; as a companion, he was in- 
teresting and attractive ; as a friend, he was sincere, 
constant and affectionate. In all his intercourse with 
society, he exhibited an example of Christian meek- 
ness, liberality and conciliation. He was frank, noble 
and generous, and had nothing of that disguise and du- 
plicity which characterise the mean and the selfish. 

Of his character as a Christian, his life forms the 
best eulogy. His piety shone with a mild and steady 
lustre, and exemplified the practical efficacy of religion 
upon the human soul. His religious opinions are de- 
veloped in the following work. In his doctrinal views 
of the Christian system he was decided, but at the same 
time catholic in his sentiments, and extended his Chris- 
tian affection to all who bore the image of the Saviour, 
and gave evidence by their lives and conduct that they 
were his disciples. He exemplified the aphorism, " In 
necessariis unitas — in dubiis libertas — in omnibus ca- 
ritas." 

In the social and domestic circle, the finer qualities 
of his mind were seen to the greatest advantage. His 
rich and varied learning and brilliant powers of con- 
versation combined with his polished and dignified^man- 
ners, made him the delight and ornament of the culti- 
vated and intellectual circles in which he moved. 
Though so much caressed in society, yet he appeared 
always the most happy in the bosom of his family. In 
the relation of son, husband, parent and master, he ex- 
hibited a commendable example of fidelity, affection 
and kindness. It was for home that his fond heart re- 



MEMOIR. 27 

served its best affections and its sweetest smiles. It was 
in his own family, that his benignity and kindness burst 
forth in unrestrained exercise, and diffused over his 
dwelling the radiance of his own pure, genial and be- 
nign spirit, and rendered it the abode of the most en- 
dearing attention and love. 

In the character of Dr. Maxcy, the elements of men- 
tal and moral greatness were most happily combined. 

" His life was gentle, and the elements 

So mixed in him that Nature might stand up 

And say to all the world, " This is a man." 

It is only at distant intervals, that God, in the dis 
pensations of his providence, bestows such a man upon 
the church and the world — " a man (to apply to him 
what has been so eloquently said of Milton) who, if he 
had been delegated as the representative of his species 
to one of the superior worlds, would have suggested a 
grand idea of the human race, as of beings affluent in 
moral and intellectual treasure, raised and distinguish- 
ed in the universe as the favorites and heirs of heaven." 

" His tibi pro meritis grata prseconia voce 
Posteritas omnis, virque puerque, canent. 

Nulla tuas unquam virtutes nesciet astas 
Non jus in laudes mors habet atra tuas.'* 

Upon President Maxcy's monument is the following 
inscription : — 



West face. 



S-M- 
REVEREiXDI • ADMODVM • VIRI 

JONATHANIS • MAXCY- S • T • P • 

COLLEGII • CAROLINAE • AVSTRALIS 

PRINCIPIS -PRAEFECTI 

RARIS • ET • PRAECELLENTIBVS • INGENII • ARTIBUS; FVLTVS • aVALES 

VEL • SVMMIS • DIGNITATIBVS • CONSTI'JISSENT • AVSPICIO • BONO 

HVJVS -INSTITVTl • PRAESES • RELATVS . EST- IN-IPSO • TEMPORIS 

MOMENTO • CVM • SINGVLARIA • EJVS . MVNERA • MAXIME • ESSENT 

ALVMNIS • EMOLVMENTO • AD • FINGENDOS-MORES • LITERARIOS 

VEL • AD • C ASTIGANDA • JVDICIA • NEC • NON-VIAM-aVA • APVD 

HOMINES • GRATIAM • PARERENT • MONSTRANDO • ANIMOSaVE 

EORVM • STVDIO • BONARVM • ARTIVM- INFLAMMANDO 

TALIS • ERAT • PRAELECTOR • VT • IN • ILLO • NON • INGENII • VIS • NON • LVMINA 

NON- VERBORVM • FELICITAS • NEC . DECORl • GESTVS • ILLECEBRAE • ET 

AD • COMMO VENDOS • AFFECT VS • INSIGNITE R • APTAE • DESIDER ARENTVR 

OFFICIVM • PR AECEPTORIS • TANTA • PERITIA • SVSTINEBAT • VT • DVM 

SCIENTIAM • IMPERTIRET • SIMVL • ARTEM • VERA-TNVESTIGANDI 
ET • BENE • RATIOCINANDI • FACILI • AC • JVSTA • METHODO • DOCERET 

East face. 

ADEO 

SE • HABILEM • COLLEGII • MODERATOREM • PRAESTITIT 

VT • INTER • ALVMNOS • JVXTA • CONCORDIAM • AVCTORlTATEMaVE 

LEGVM • SERVARET • EVITANDO • SIMVL • DVRITIAM 

CVRIOSAMQVE • NIMIS • EXPLORATIONEM 

DOCTRINAE • CIIRISTIANAE • ASSERTOR • IPSE • MITEM 

EVANGELII • SAPIENTIAM • EXCOLEBAT • VlAMaVE • SALVTIS 

SEMPITERNAE • ARGVMENTIS • EX • LIMATISSIMA 

PHILOSOPHIA • PETITI3 • TVEBATVR 

HAVD • FACILE • ALIVM • IN VENERIS • CVI • CONTIGIT • BENEFICIA 

AVT • MAJORA • AVT • DIVTVRNIORA • ERGA • HANG • NOSTRAM 

CIVITATEM • PROFERRE • NEMINEM • CERTE • aVEM . JVVENTVS 

NOSTRA • PIA • AC • GRATA • MENTE • PERINDE • EXTOLLIT 

PARENTEMaVE • STVDIORVM • REIPVBLICAE • FAVTORVM • CONCLAMAT 

DESIDERIO • TANTI • VIRI • ET • IPSIVS • 3IEM0RIA • BENEFICIOEVM 

PERC VLSA • FAMILIA • ACADEMIC A • EX • APOLLINE • CLARIORVM 

NVNCVPATA • CVJVS • OLIM • ILLE • SOGIVS • ERAT 

H • M • P • C- 

South face. 

NATVS • IN • CIVITATE • MASSACHVSETTS 



iV • NONAS • M • Dec • LXVIII 

North face. 

HIS • IN • AEDIBVS • ANIMAM • EFFLAVIT 

PRIDIE • NONAS • JVNII • ANNOQVE • S • H • 

M- DCCC -XX 



-l 



NOTES TO THE MEMOIR. 



Note A. p. 10. 

Of the the other sons of Levi and Ruth Maxcy, Milton graduated 
at Brown University, in the year 1802, and afterwards became an 
eminent lawyer in Beaufort, South Carolina, where he died of the 
yellow fever in 1818. Levi, another son, who was distinguished for 
his talents, died also at the South. 

Virgil graduated at Brown University in 1804, and was a classmate 
of the Hon. Marcus Morton, LL. D., late Governor of Massachusetts. 
His recent and sudden death, from the accidental explosion of a gun 
on board the United States Steam-Ship Princeton, Febuary 28, 1844, 
has not only filled the hearts of an afflicted family with the deepest 
sorrow, but a large circle of friends by whom he is sincerely and feel- 
ingly lamented. 

"Multis ille bonis flebilis occidit." 

The Hon. Virgil Maxcy possessed talents and accomplishments of 
a high order. He w^as a ripe scholar, a finished gentleman and a pure 
statesman. His manners were bland, courteous and dignified. 
In social and domestic life, he was the object of love in his own 
family, and esteemed and honored by all who knew him. As a hus- 
band, father, friend, master and citizen his conduct was exemplary^ 
and his virtues shone resplendent. In his public life, he exhibited a 
rare union of political firmness, united with candor and moderation. 
After studying law with that eminent jurist Robert Goodloe Harper, 
of Maryland, he settled in that State, and soon rose to professional 



30 NOTES. 

eminence. He was successively distinguished in both houses of the 
Maryland Legislature ; as Solicitor of the United States Treasury ; 
and as Charge d' Affaires from this country to the Court of the King 
of Belgium. In all the high and responsible stations which he was 
called to fill, he displayed signal abilities, and received the meed of 
high praise. 

In the melancholy catastrophe which occurred on board the Prince- 
ton, our country was also deprived, at the same moment, of several 
distinguished persons and valuable citizens. Among others, an inti- 
mate friend of Mr. Maxcy, the Hon. Abel P. Upshur, the Secretary 
of State ; the Hon. Thomas Gilmer, the Secretary of the Navy ; 
Capt. Beverly Kennon, chief of a Navy Bureau; and the Hon. Da- 
vid Gardiner, of New York, by a mysterious dispensation of Divine 
Providence, were all suddenly cut off in the midst of health, activity 
and usefulness. 



Note B. p. 10 

The following epitaph was written by Mr. Levi Maxcy on his 
honest and faithful colored servant, who was an exemplary member 
of the first Baptist Church in Attleborough. 

Here lies the best of slaves 

Now turning into dust ; 
Ca3sar, the Ethiopian craves 

A place among the just. 

His faithful soul has fled 

To realms of heavenly light, 
And, by the blood of Jesus shed, 

Is chang'dfrom hlack to white. 

Januar)' 15, he quitted the stage. 
In the 77th year of his age. 



^ 



Note C. p. 12. 



BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE OF HON. SAMUEL EDDY, LL. D. 

Among the classmates of President Maxcy, with ■whom he formed 
an intimate and cordial friendship, and which continued uninterrupted 
to the end of life, was the Hon. Samuel Eddy, LL. D., of Providence. 
Mr. Eddy was born in Johnston, R. I. March 31, 1769. He was 
graduated at Brown University in 1787. He studied law with the 
Hon. Benjamin Bourne, an eminent and popular barrister, and was 
afterwards his partner in Providence. In 1798, he was elected by 
the people Secretary of the State ; and they evinced their confidence 
in his ability and uprightness by annually re-electing him to that of- 
fice without opposition, till May, 1819, a period of twenty-one years, 
when he declined a re-election. On his retirement from that office 
the General Assembly unanimously voted their thanks to him, "for his 
distinguished talents and ability manifested in the discharge of the du- 
ties of said office for more than twenty years." 

On the occasion of his resigning the Secretaryship of State, the du- 
ties of which he had so long, so ably and so faithfully performed, Mr. 
Eddy made the following private record : " May 5, 1819. This day 
terminates my duties as Secretary of the State. I have the satisfac- 
tion to believe that, in the discharge of my official duties, I have 
been free from partiality. I have never knowingly received more 
than my lawful fees, and no man's business has been refused, or left 
undone for want of money." 

Mr. Eddy was elected a Representative in Congress from Rhode- 
Island for three successive terms, and held a seat in the national 
councils, from 1819, the year he resigned his Secretaryship, to 1825. 
He was subsequently appointed Chief Justice of the Supreme Court 
of Rhode-Island, and was annually re-elected for eight years, till June 
1835, when sickness compelled him to relinquish all public employ- 
ments. He passed the remainder of his life in domestic happiness, 
and literary pursuits, beloved by his relatives and friends, and hon- 
ored by the public. 

Judge Eddy departed this life, at his residence, in Providence, 
February 3, 1839, aged 69 years. In his death his native State and 



22 NOTES. 

his country were deprived of a pure and an able statesman. Without 
stooping to the arts of popularity, he exercised a wide and command- 
ing influence over the minds of others, as benign as it was effective. 
His name is hallowed in the grateful remembrance of the citizens of 
Rhode-Island and identified with her history. 

In 1801, he received from Brown University the honorary degree 
of Doctor of Laws. In 1805, he was elected a member of the Board 
of Fellows of that Institution, and, with his accustomed punctuality, 
attended all meetings of the Corporation, until his decease, a period of 
thirty-four years. In 1806, he was elected Secretary of the Corpora- 
tion, which office he held for twenty -three years, when he resigned 
it in 1829. He was an honorary member of the Massachusetts His- 
torical Society, and enriched the Collections of that Society with con- 
tributions from his powerful pen. He was Vice-President of the 
Rhode-Island Historical Society, and presented to that Society many 
valuable communications. He intended at one period of his life, to 
write the History of his native State, and it is a subject of regret that 
he did not execute such a work, for which he was so admirably quali- 
fied. His literary acquisitions were extensive, critical and profound. 
His mind was vigorous and active, his apprehension quick, and his 
judgment sound and discriminating. He had a marked predilection 
for analytical investigation, and for works of clear, strong and conclu- 
sive reasoning. In his manners he had great frankness, simplicity 
and sincerity, and in his habits he was singularly methodical. He 
was able in counsel, wise in deliberation and energetic in action. In 
his mental constitution there was a native dignity which never 
permitted him to descend to any thing little or mean. In the 
discharge of his private and public duties no man ever acted from 
better and purer motives. He possessed that integrity which no in- 
terest could pervert, and that love of truth which no difficulties could 
repress. In the language of Juvenal he dared, 

" Verba anirai proferre, et vitam impendere vero." 

Judge Eddy, by his talents and his virtues, adorned every station 
which he occupied. To have been honored with the friendship of 
this excellent man, is regarded by the writer of these lines as a dis- 
tinction and happiness which will ever be regarded by him with feel- 
ings of no ordinary pleasure. Sooner shall memory perish, 

" Quam nostro illius labatur pectore vnltus." 



Note D. p. 13. 

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE OF PRESIDENT MxVNNING. 

Rev. James Manning, D. D., the first President of Rhode-Island 
College, now Brown University, was born in Elizabethtown, N. J.? 
Oct. 22, 1738. He graduated at Princeton College, N. J., in 1762, 
with the highest honors of his class. In 1763, he became the iPas- 
tor of the Baptist church in Warren, R. I. In the same year he re- 
commended the project of establishing a College, and the next year, 
a charter for the Institution was obtained from the Legislature of R. I. 
In Sept. 1765, Dr. Manning was appointed President and Professor of 
Languages. In 1770, "when the College was permanently fixed in 
Providence, Dr. Manning became the Pastor of the first Baptist 
Church in that town. In 1786, he was unanimously appointed to re- 
present the State of Rhode Island in the Congress of the United States 

This excellent man, on the Sabbath morning of July 24th, 1791, 
was seized with an apoplectic fit, and expired the ensuing Friday, 
aged 53 years. He presided over the College with distinguished abili- 
ty, and discharged the duties of his office, with unwearied assiduity 
for the period of twenty-six years. 

The following character of President Manning, is from the pen of 
his early friend and official associate, the Hon. David Howell, LL. D., 
of Providence, and was originally published in Rippon's London Reg- 
ister. 

" In his youth, he was remarkable for dexterity in athletic exercis- 
es, for the symmetry of his body, and gracefulness of his person. 
His countenance was stately and majestic, full of dignity, goodness 
and gravity ; and the temper of his mind was a counterpart of it. He 
was formed for enterprize ; his address \Nas pleasing, his manners en- 
chanting, his voice harmonious, and his eloquence irresistible. 

" Having deeply imbibed the spirit of truth himself, as a preacher 
of the gospel, he was faithful in declaring the whole counsel of God. He 
studied plainness of speech, and to be useful more than to be celebrate 
ed. The good order, learning, and respectability of the Baptist 
churches in the eastern States, are much owing to his assiduous at- 
tention to their welfare. The credit of his name, and his personal in- 
fluence among them, perha,ps have never been exceeded by any other 
character. 

5 



34 NOTES. 

" Of the College he must be considered as the founder. He pre- 
sided with the singular advantage of a superior personal appearance, 
added to all his shining talents for governing and instructing youth. 
Perhaps the history of no other college will disclose a more rapid 
progress, or greater maturity, than this, during the twenty- six years 
of his presidency. Although he seemed to be consigned to a seden- 
tary life, yet he was capable of more active scenes. He paid much 
attention to the government of his country, and was honored by 
Rhode-Island with a seat in the old Congress. In state affairs, he 
discovered an uncommon sagacity, and might have made a figure as a 
politician. 

" In classical learning he was fully competent to the business of his 
station. He devoted less time than some others to the more abstruse 
sciences ; but nature seemed to have furnished him so completely, 
that little remained for art to accomplish. The resources of his ge- 
nius were great. In conversation he was at all times pleasant, and 
entertaining. He had as many friends as acquaintance and took no 
less pains to serve his friends than acquire them." 

Over the grave of President Manning, the Trustees and Fellows 
of the College have erected a monument on which is inscribed a faith- 
ful record ot " his social virtues, classic learning, eminent patriotism, 
shining talents for instructing and governing youth and zeal in the 
cause of Christianity." 

President Manning embodied in an enduring form, few of the produc- 
tions of his noble mind. Of his writings, the Editor, after diligent 
inquiry for several years, has been able to obtain only two of his fa- 
miliar letters, and the following Address, which is copied from the 
original manuscript. It was delivered by Dr. Manning to the 
Graduates of Rhode-Island College at the Commencement, Sep- 
tember 2, 1789. 

" Having completed your academical course, you now commence 
members of the great community of the world. Here, while 
your country offers you a fairer opportunity to display your abilities, 
and improve to advantage that knowledge which you have acquired, 
than any age or country ever before presented, it becomes my duty 
to point you to that line of conduct which will most probably insure 
your success. The narrow limits prescribed by the occasion, will 
allow me to hint at only a few general observations. 

" The first attention of a youth, stepping forward into life, should 
be to acquire and preserve a good character. A destitution of this 
places him beyond the possibility of ever becoming eminent. For, 
bad as the world is, it has always paid a voluntary tribute to virtue ; 



NOTES. 35 

and, though some vicious men have risen to a degree of respectabili- 
ty, it will be found on a nearer view, that they are indebted for that 
respectability to some virtuous traits in their character. 

" To avail yourselves of this supreme advantage, I cannot recom- 
mend to you a subject more important and interesting than the 
Christian religion ; of whose divine founder it was a favorite maxim. 
Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all other things 
shall be added unto you. 

" This divine religion creates principles in the hearts of its subjects 
the most operative and the best adapted to regulate the life and con- 
duct, that can possibly be conceived. This at once portrays in the 
strongest colors, the state, connexions and claims of man. It disrobes 
the world of all its imaginary glory, and presents it in its own fugi- 
tive, fading colors, the/ashiori of which passeth away ; while it inspires 
that unassuming humilit^^, which renders a man less vulnerable by 
the envenomed shafts of malevolence. It moulds the heart into a di- 
vine benevolence, and is the purest of that exquisite sensibility^, which 
deeply interests itself in the fortunes of others so that it weeps with 
those who weep^ amd rejoices with those icho rejoice. 

'' This divine religion carries forward our thoughts to futurity ; 
contemplates as a reality our dissolution, and that awful, approaching 
judgment, in which we must all become a party ; it places us in that 
new eternal world, reaping the fruits of what w^e have sown in this. 
In a word, it places us immediately under the eye of God, now the 
witness of our actions, and soon to be our Judge. 

" Next to this attention to religion, let me earnestly recommend 
forming, betimes, the habits of industry- Man was made for employ- 
ment. All his internal as well as external powers testify to this great 
truth. To comply with this great dictate of nature is of the utmost 
importance ; and youth, of all seasons of life, is the fittest for this cul- 
ture. That is the period to form and give a proper direction to the 
habits, on the right constitution of which depends, almost entirely, 
the happiness of man. 

" In selecting a profession, consult the strong bias of natural incli- 
nation ; for against this current, few if any, have made a figure *, and 
be sure that the object lies within reach of your talents. 

" Should the Christian ministry, with any of you become an object, 
reflect on the absurdity of intruding into it while strangers to experi- 
mental religion. See that yourselves have been taught of God, be- 
fore you attempt to teach Godliness to others. To place in the pro- 
fessional chairs of our universities the most illiterate of mankind, 
would be an absurdity by far less glaring, than to call an unconverted 




36 NOTES. 

man to exercise the ministerial function. This is to expose our holy 
religion to the scoffs of infidels, and to furnish to their hands the most 
deadly weapons. I omit to insist on the account such must render 
in the great tremendous day ! 

" May that wisdom which is from above direct your steps in your 
journey through life ; and may you, after the discharge of the duties 
of good citizens, men of science and religion, meet the approbation of 
the Supreme Judge, and reap the harvest of immortal glory in the 
world above. With this devout wish I bid you farewell." 



^ 



Note E. 



■p. 18. 



BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE OF PRESIDENT MESSER. 

Rev. Asa Messer, D. D., LL. D., was born in Methuen, Mass., in 
1769. In 1790 he graduated at Rhode-Island College, and the next 
year he was chosen a Tutor in that Institution, and continued in that 
office, till he was elected Professor of the Cearned Languages, in 
1796. He was licensed to preach, by the first Baptist Church in 
Providence, in 1792, and received ordination in 1801. He was elect- 
ed Professor of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy, in 1799, and 
occupied this professorship till the resignation of President Maxcy, 
in 1802, when he was appointed President of the College. He pre- 
sided over Brown University, for the period of twenty -four years, dis- 
charging most assiduously and faithfully the duties of that important 
station, for which his mental endowments and literary acquirements 
so eminently qualified him. In a short biographical sketch of Dr. 
Messer by Professor Goddard, of Providence, published in 1839 he 
observes, " During his administration, the College continued to flour- 
ish. An increased number of pupils resorted thither, and, at no an- 
tecedent or subsequent period of its history, have the classes ever 
been so large.* After having been connected with Hhe College, eith- 

* Numerus alumnorum qui in anno singulo primura ad gradum admissi 
fuerunt. 

A. D. Numerus. A. D. Numerus. A. D. Numerus. 



1769 


7 


1798 


18 


1821 


40 


1770 


4 


1799 


24 


1822 


30 


1771 


6 


1800 


23 


1823 


27 


1772 


6 


1801 


19 


1824 


41 


1773 


5 


1802 


28 


1825 


48 


1774 


6 


1803 


23 


1826 


28 


1775 


10 


1804 


22 


1827 


30 


1776 


9 


1805 


28 


1828 


25 


1777 


7 


1806 


19 


1829 


19 


1782 


7 


1807 


28 


1830 


20 


1783 


6 


1808 


33 


1831 


13 


1786 


15 


1809 


30 


1832 


23 


1787 


10 


1810 


20 


1833 


20 


1788 


20 


1811 


24 


1834 


23 


1789 


9 


1812 


23 


1835 


10 


1790 


22 


1813 


35 


1836 


24 


1791 


16 


1814 


47 


1837 


38 


1792 


17 


18] 5 


22 


1838 


30 


1793 


12 


18J6 


33 


1839 


35 


1794 


20 


1817 


25 


1840 


36 


1795 


26 


1818 


18 


1841 


31 


1796 


17 


1819 


20 


1842 


34 


1797 


23 


1820 


29 


1843 


29 



Alumnorum nuxnerus integer — 1525 



38 NOTES. ffP 

er as a pupil or an officer, for the term of nearly forty years, Dr. Mes" 
ser, in the year 1826, resigned the office of President. Possessing a 
handsome competence, the fruit in part of his habitual frugality, he 
was enabled to pass the remainder of his life in the enjoyment of in- 
dependent leisure. After his retirement from collegiate toils,his fellow- 
citizens of Providence, elected him, for several years, to responsible 
trusts ; and these trus^ he discharged with his characteristic punctu- 
ality and uprightness." 

President Messer received the honorary degree of Doctor of Divin- 
ity, from his Alma Mater, in 1806, and the same honor from Harvard 
University in 1820 ; and that of Doctor of Laws, from the University 
of Vermont, in 1812. 

He expired at his mansion house, October 11, 1836, aged sixty- 
five years. His death was deeply lamented not only by his family, 
towards whom his conduct was ever marked by the kindest and most 
endearing consideration, and who felt the magnitude of their loss, but 
also, by his numerous pupils and friends, and the community in which 
he lived, who appreciated his sterling integrity, strong and discrimi- 
nating mind, and energy of Christian principle. 

" Semper lionos, noraenque tuum, laudesque manebunt." 

Among the testimonials to his worth, and the regret manifested 
for his death, the following is here inserted : 

" At a special meeting of the Faculty of Brown University, held 
October 14, 1836, in the Chapel of University Hall, President Way- 
land announced the Departure from this life of the Rev. Asa Messer, 
late President of said University, whereupon the following Pream- 
ble and Resolutions were unanimously adopted. 

" Whereas the Rev. Asa Messer, D. D., and LL. D., was for nearly 
forty years an Instructor in this Institution, and for twenty-four years 
its presiding officer, an expression of the sentiments of the existing 
Faculty, upon the occasion of his unexpected and lamented death, is 
demanded by the respect which they individually and collectively 
entertain for the character of the deceased—Therefore, 

" Resolved — That the Faculty of Brown University learn, with 
deep regret, that the Rev. Dr. Messer, an eminent son of this Uni- 
versity, and for a long course of years its presiding officer, is no more ; 
that we are impressed with a strong conviction of his acknowledged 
merits as an Instructor, of his vigorous intellect, and of his solid learn- 
ing •, and that we gratefully recognize his title to the best distinctions 
oUhe CITIZEN, the MAN, and the CHRISTIAN. 



m 



Wm NOTES. 39 

" Resolved — That, in token of our regret for his death and of our 
respect for his character, we, together with the undergraduates of 
this Institution, will attend his funeral to-morrow afternoon. 

" Resolved — That the Rev. Professor Elton and Mr. Professor 
Goddard be a Committee to present a certificate copy of these resolu- 
tions to the family of the deceased ; and that the same be entered 
upon the Records of the Faculty, and published in all the newspapers 
of the city." 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD DEMONSTRATED FROM 
THE WORKS OF CREATION. 



A 

SERMON, 

PREACHED ON 

LORD'S DAY MORNING, 
AUGUST 9, 179 5, 

IN THE 

REV. DR. HITCHCOCK'S MEETING HOUSE, 

IN 

PROVIDENCE. 



TO THE 

YOUNG GENTLEMEN, 

STUDENTS OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE, 

OVER WHOM I HAVE THE HONOR AS WELL AS 

THE PLEASURE TO PRESIDE, 

I MOST AFFECTIONATELY RECOMMEND THE MOST 

SERIOUS ATTENTION TO THE 

IMPORTANT TRUTH BROUGHT FORWARD AND ILLUSTRATED 

IN THE FOLLOWING 

SERMON. 

J. MAXCY. 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD- 



FOR THE INVISIBLE THINGS OF HIM FROM THE CREATION OF THE WORLD 
ARE CLEARLY SEEN, BEING UNDERSTOOD BY THE THINGS THAT ARE 
MADE, EVEN HIS ETERNAL POWER AND GODHEAD.— Romans i. 20. 

Nothing will more effectually g-uard us against vice, than a 
firm belief of the existence of God. For surely if we realize 
that there is such a Being, we shall naturally infer from his per- 
fections, from the nature of his moral government, and from our 
situation as rational creatures, that we are amenable at his aw- 
ful tribunal. Superior power, wisdom and goodness, always lay 
us under restraint, and command our veneration. These, even 
in a mortal, overawe us. They restrain not only the actions, 
but the words and thoughts of the most vicious and abandoned. 
Our happiness depends on our virtue. Our virtue depends on 
the conformity of our hearts and conduct to the laws prescribed 
us by our beneficent Creator. Of what vast importance then is it 
to our present as well as future felicity, to possess in our hearts a 
feeling sense, and in our understandings a clear conviction, of the 
existence of that Being whose power and goodness are unbounded, 
whose presence fills immensity, and whose wisdom, like a torrent 
of lightning, emanates through all the dark recesses of eternal du- 
ration ! How great must be the effect of a sense of the presence 
of the great Creator and Governor of all things, to whom belong 
the attributes, eternity, independency, perfect holiness, inflexible 
justice, and inviolable veracity ; complete happiness and glorious 
majesty ; supreme rigjit and unbounded dominion ! A sense of 
accountability to Gofll^ill retard the eager pursuit of vice ; it will 
humble the heart of the proud, it will bridle the tongue of the 
profane, and snatch the knife from the hand of the assassin. 
A belief of the existence of God is the true original source of 



44 THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 

all virtue, and the only foundation of all religion, natural or re- 
vealed. Set aside this great luminous truth, erase the convic- 
tion of it from the heart, you then place virtue and vice on the 
same level ; you drive afflicted innocence into despair ; you add 
new effrontery to the marred visage of guilt ; you plant thorns 
in the path, and shed an impenetrable gloom over the prospects 
of the righteous. — Sin has alienated the affections, and diverted 
the attention of men from the great Jehovah. " Darkness has 
covered the earth, and gross darkness the people." Men have 
worshipped the works of their own hands, and neglected the 
true God, though his existence and perfections were stamped in 
glaring characters on all creation. From the regularity, order, 
beauty and conservation of this great system of things, of which 
man makes a part ; from the uniform tendency of all its divi- 
sions to their proper ends ; the existence of God shines as clearly 
as the sun in the heavens. — '' From the things that are made 
(says the text) are seen his eternal power and Godhead." 

1. Man himself is a proof of God's existence. Let us place 
him before us in his full stature. We are at once impressed 
with the beautiful organization of his body, with the orderly and 
harmonious arrangement of his members. Such is the dispo- 
sition of these, that their motion is the most easy, graceful and 
useful that can be conceived. We are astonished to see the 
same simple matter diversified into so many different substan- 
ces, of different qualities, size, and figure. If we pursue our 
researches through the internal economy, we shall find, that all 
the different opposite parts correspond to each other with the 
utmost exactness and order ; that they all answer the most be- 
neficent purposes. This wonderful machine, the human body, 
is animated, cherished and preserved, by a spirit within, which 
pervades every particle, feels in every organ, warns us of in- 
jury, and administers to our pleasures. Erect in stature, man 
differs from all other animals. Though his foot is confined to 
the earth, yet his eye measures the whole^rcuit of heaven, and 
in an instant takes in thousands of worlds. His countenance 
is turned upward, to teach us that he is not like other animals, 
limited to the earth, but looks forward to brighter scenes of ex- 



THE EXISTENCE Of GOD. 45 

istence in the skies.— Whence came this erect, orderly, beauti- 
ful constitution of the human body ? Did it spring up from the 
earth self-formed ? Surely not. Earth itself is inactive matter. 
That which has no motion can never produce any. Man sure- 
ly could not, as has been vainly and idly supposed, have been 
formed by the fortuitous concurrence of atoms. We behold 
the most exact order in the constitution of the human body. 
Order always involves design. — Design always involves intelli- 
gence. — That intelligence which directed the orderly formation 
of the human body, must have resided in a Being whose power 
was adequate to the production of such an effect. Creation 
surely is the prerogative of a self-existent, uncaused Being. Fi- 
nite creatures may arrange and dispose, but they cannot create ; 
they cannot give life. It is an universal law through all nature 
that like produces like. The same laws most probably obtain 
through the whole system in which we are connected. We 
have therefore no reason to suppose that angels created man. 
Neither can we, without the greatest absurdity, admit, that he 
vi'as formed by himself, or by mere accident. If in the latter 
way, why do we never see men formed so in the present day ? 
— Why do we never see the clods of earth brightening into hu- 
man flesh, and the dust under our feet crawling into animated 
forms, and starting up into life and intelligence ? If we even 
admit that either of the forementioned causes might have pro- 
duced man, yet neither of them could have preserved him in 
existence one moment. There must therefore be a God un- 
caused, independent and complete. The nobler part of man 
clearly evinces this great truth. When we consider the bound- 
less desires and the inconceivable activity of the soul of man, 
we can refer his origin to nothing but God. How astonishing 
are the reasoning faculties of man ! How surprising the power 
of comparing, arranging and connecting his ideas ! How won- 
derful is the power of imagination ! On its wings, in a mo- 
ment, we can transport ourselves to the most distant part of the 
universe. We can fly back, and live the lives of all antiquity, 
or surmount the limits of time and sail along the vast range of 
eternity. Whence these astonishing powers, if not from a God 
of infinite wisdom, goodness and power ? 



46 THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 

2. '' The invisible things of him from the creation of the 
world," says the text, " are clearly seen." Let us for a mo- 
ment behold our earth. With what a delightful scene are we 
here presented ! The diversification of its surface into land 
and water, islands and lakes, springs and rivers, hills and vallies, 
mountains and plains, renders it to man doubly enchanting. 
We are entertained with an agreeable variety, without being 
disgusted by a tedious uniformity. Every thing appears admi- 
rably formed for our profit and delight. There the vallies are 
clothed in smiling green, and the plains are bending with corn. 
Here is the gentle hill to delight the eye, and beyond, slow ris- 
ing from the earth, swells the huge mountain, and, with all its 
load of waters, rocks and woods, heaves itself up into the skies. 
Why this pleasing, vast deformity of nature ? Undoubtedly 
for the benefit of man. From the mountains descend streams 
to fertilize the plains below, and cover them with wealth and 
beauty. The earth not only produces every thing necessary to 
support our bodies, but to remedy our diseases, and gratify our 
senses. Who covered the earth with such a pleasing variety of 
fruits and flowers ? W^ho gave them their delightful fragrance, 
and painted them with such exquisite colors ? Who causes the 
same water to whiten in the lily, that blushes in the rose ? Do 
not these things indicate a Cause infinitely superior to any finite 
being ? Do they not directly lead us to believe the existence 
of God, to admire his goodness, to revere his power, to adore 
his wisdom, in so happily accommodating our external circum- 
stances to our situation and internal constitution ? 

3. But how are we astonished to behold the vast ocean, roll- 
ing its immense burden of waters ! Who gave it such a con- 
figuration of particles as to render it moveable by the least pres- 
sure, and at the same time so strong as to support the heaviest 
weights ? Who spread out this vast highway of all the nations 
under heaven ? Who gave it its regular motion ? Who con- 
fined it within its bounds ? A little more motion would disorder 
the whole world ! A small incitement on the tide would drown 
whole kingdoms. Who restrains the proud waves, when the 
tempest lifts them to the clouds ? Who measured the great wa- 



\iL 7*A 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 47 

ters, and subjected them to invariable laws ? That great Be- 
ing, " who placed the sand for the bound thereof by a perpet- 
ual decree that it cannot pass ; and though the waves thereof 
toss themselves, yet can they not prevail ; though they roar, 
yet can they not pass over." With reason may we believe, that 
from the things that are made, are clearly seen eternal power 
and wisdom. 

4. Passing by the numerous productions and appendages of 
the earth, let us rise from it, and consider the body of air with 
which we are surrounded. What a convincing proof do we 
here find of the existence of God ? Such is the subtilty and 
transparency of the air, that it receives the rays of the sun and 
stars, conveying them with inconceivable velocity to objects on 
the earth, rendering them visible, and decorating the whole sur- 
face of the globe with an agreeable intermixture of light, shade 
and colors. But still this air has a sufficient consistency and 
strength to support clouds, and all the winged inhabitants. Had 
it been less subtile, it would have intercepted the hght. Had 
it been more rarified, it would not have supported its inhabi- 
tants, nor have afforded sufficient moisture for the purposes of 
respiration. What then but infinite wisdom could have temper- 
ed the air so nicely, as to give it sufficient strength to support 
clouds for rain, to afford wind for health, and at the same time 
to possess the power of conveying sound and hght ? How won- 
derful is this element 1 How clearly does it discover infinite 
wisdom, power and goodness ! 

5. But when we cast our eyes up to the firmament of heaven^ 
we clearly see that it declares God's handy work. Here the 
immense theatre of God's works opens upon us, and discloses^^ 
ten thousand magnificent, splendid objects. We dwindle to 
nothing in comparison of this august scene of beauty, majesty 
and glory. Who reared this vast arch over our heads ? Who 
adorned it with so many shining objects, placed at such immense 
distances from each other, regular in their motions, invariably 
observing the laws to which they were originally subjected? 
W~ho placed the sun at such a convenient distance as not to an- 



48 THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 

iioy, but refresh us ? Who for so many ages has caused him to 
rise and set at fixed times ? Whose hand directs, and whose 
power restrains him in his course, causing him to produce the 
agreeable changes of day and night, as well as the variety of 
seasons ? The order, harmony and regularity, in the revolutions 
of the heavenly bodies, are such incontestible proofs of the ex~ 
istence of God, that an eminent poet well said, " an undevout 
astronomer is mad." In the time of Cicero, when the knowl- 
edge of astronomy was very imperfect, he did not hesitate to 
declare, that in his opinion the man who asserted the heavenly 
bodies were not framed and moved by a divine understanding, 
was himself void of all understanding. Well indeed is it said, 
that the heavens declare the glory of God. 

This great Being is every where present. He exists all around 
us. He is not, as we are apt to imagine, at a great distance. 
Wherever we turn, his image meets our view. We see him in 
the earth, in the ocean, in the air, in the sun, moon and stars. 
We feel him in ourselves. He is always working round us ; 
he performs the greatest operations, produces the noblest effects, 
discovers himself in a thousand different ways, and yet the real 
GOD remains unseen. All parts of creation are equally under 
his inspection. Though he warms the breast of the highest an- 
gel in heaven, yet he breathes Hfe into the meanest insect on earth. 
He lives through all his works, supporting all by the word of 
his power. He shines in the verdure that clothes the plains^ 
in the lily that delights the vale, and in the forest that waves on 
the mountain. He supports the slender reed that trembles in 
the breeze, and the sturdy oak that defies the tempest. His 
presence cheers the inanimate creation. Far in the wilderness, 
where human eye never saw, where the savage foot never trod, 
there he bids the blooming forest smile, and the blushing rose 
open its leaves to the morning sun. There he causes the feath- 
ered inhabitants to whistle their wild notes to the listening trees 
and echoing mountains. There nature lives in all her wanton 
wildness. There the ravished eye, hurrying from scene to scene, 
is lost in one vast blush of beauty. From the dark stream that 
rolls through the forest the silver-scaled fish leap up, and dumbly 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 49 

mean the praise of God. Though man remains silent, yet Ood 
will have praise. He regards, observes, upholds, connects and 
equals all. 

The belief of his existence is not a point of mere speculation 
and amusement. It is of inconceivable importance to our pres- 
ent as well as future felicity. But while we believe there is a 
God, we should be extremely careful to ascertain, with as much 
accuracy as possible, what is his real nature. The most promi- 
nent features of this are exhibited in that incomprehensible dis- 
play of wisdom, power and goodness, made in the works of 
creation. A virtuous man stands in a relation to God which is 
peculiarly delightful. The divine perfections are all engaged 
in his defence. He feels powerful in God's power, wise in his 
wisdom, good in his goodness. The vicious man, on the con- 
trary, stands in a relation to God which is of all things the most 
dreadful. He is unwilling to know that God has sufficient wis- 
dom to search out all his wickedness, sufficient goodness to the 
universe to determine to punish that wickedness, and sufficient 
power to execute that determination. A firm belief in the exist- 
ence of God will heighten all the enjoyments of life, and, by 
conforming our hearts to his will, will secure the approbation of 
a good conscience, and inspire us with the hopes of a blessed 
immortality. 

Never be tempted to disbelieve the existence of God, when 
every thing around you proclaims it in a language too plain not 
to be understood. Never cast your eyes on creation without 
having your souls expanded with this sentiment, " There is a 
God." When you survey this globe of earth, with all its ap- 
pendages ; when you behold it inhabited by numberless ranks 
of creatures, all moving in their proper spheres, all verging to 
their proper ends, all animated by the same great source of life, 
all supported at the same great bounteous table ; when you 
behold not only the earth, but the ocean and the air, swarming 
with hving creatures, all happy in their situation ; when you 
behold yonder sun, darting a vast blaze of glory over the heav- 
ens, garnishing mighty worlds, and waking ten thousand songs 
7 



50 THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 

of praise ; when you behold unnumbered systems diffused 
through vast immensity, clothed in splendor, and rolling in maj- 
esty ; when you behold these things, your affections will rise 
above all the vanities of time ; your full souls will struggle with 
ecstacy, and your reason, passions and feelings, all united, will 
rush up to the skies, with a devout acknowledgement of the 
existence, power, wisdom and goodness of God. Let us behold 
him, let us wonder, let us praise and adore. These things will 
make us happy. They will wean us from vice, and attach us to 
virtue. As a belief of the existence of God is a fundamental 
point of salvation, he who denies it runs the greatest conceivable 
hazard. He resigns the satisfaction of a good conscience, quits 
the hopes of a happy immortahty, and exposes himself to de- 
struction. All this for what? for the short-lived pleasures of 
a riotous, dissolute life. How wretched, when he finds his 
atheistical confidence totally disappointed. Instead of his be- 
loved sleep and insensibility, with which he so fondly flattered 
himself, he will find himself still existing after death, removed 
to a strange place ; *he will then find that there is a God, who 
will not suffer his rational creatures to fall into annihilation as a 
refuge from the just punishment of their crimes ; he will find 
himself doomed to drag on a wretched train of existence in un- 
availing woe and lamentation. Alas ! how astonished will he be 
to find himself plunged in the abyss of ruin and desperation ! 
God forbid that any of us should act so unwisely as to disbe- 
lieve, when every thing around us proclaims, his existence ! 




DISCOURSE, 

DESIGNED TO EXPLAIN 

THE DOCTRINE OF ATONEMENT. 

IN TWO PAKTS. 

DELIVERED IN THE CHAPEL OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE, 
ON THE 11th and 25tH of NOVEMBER, 1796. 






DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 



PART I. 



FOR IT BECAME HIM FOR WHOM ARE ALL THINGS AND BY WHOM ARE ALL 
THINGS, IN BRINGING MANY SONS UNTO GLORY, TO MAKE THE CAPTAIN 
OF THEIR SALVATION PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERINGS,— Hebreavs ii. x. 

The sufferings of Christ were essential to his character as a 
Saviour. Without them the pardon of sin would have subvert- 
ed the authority of the divine law, and have prostrated the dig- 
nity of the divine government. For, if God should not exe- 
cute the penalty incurred by the transgressor, if he should not 
manifest in his moral government the same abhorrence of sin that 
he does in the declarations of his law, his word and his conduct 
would be repugnant to each other, and he would afford no con- 
vincing evidence, that his law was a transcript of his will ; that 
it ought to be considered as sacred, and respected as an univer- 
sal invariable standard of obedience for all rational creatures. 
One great and chief design of the atonement made by the suf- 
ferings of Christ, was to impress a thorough conviction of God's 
displeasure against sin, though he should pardon the sinner. It 
was essential to a consistent exercise of pardon, that in some 
visible expression, God's real disposition towards sin should be 
manifested as clearly, fully and unequivocally, as it would be in 
the execution of the penalty of the law on the transgressor. 
This disposition, when brought into view in some sensible mani- 
festation, vindicates God's character from all suspicion, and ful- 
ly discovers his attachment to the dignity of his government, to 
the rights of his justice, and the truth of his law. The suffer- 
ings of Christ appear to have been available to the procurement 



54 DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 

of salvation, so far as they portrayed God's displeasure against 
sin, and evinced the infinite value he set upon his own charac- 
ter and law. Hence it is, that the scriptures so frequently bring 
into view a suffering, crucified Christ,as the only hope of salvation. 
His sufferings support the dignity of God, as the moral governor, 
while he extends mercy to the guilty ; they present him in a 
glorious point of light, as the universal sovereign and proprie- 
tor, as the great source from which all things have proceeded, 
and in which all shall finally terminate. It is therefore with 
great reason and propriety that the text declares, that '' it be- 
came him for " whom are all things, and by whom are all things, 
in " bringing many sons unto glory, to make the Captain of 
^^ their salvation perfect through sufferings." 

These words, by bringing into view the passion of Christ, as 
essential to a display of the divine character in the pardon of 
sin, present the doctrine of atonement in a light truly interest- 
ing and important. For surely nothing can be calculated more 
effectually to awaken the solicitude, and raise the desponding 
hopes of the guilty, than a prospect of forgiveness. Why God 
should require sufferings and the effusion of blood as a pre-re- 
quisite to the remission of sin, has been a subject of much in- 
quiry, and to many "a stone of stumbling, and a rock of of- 
fence." They have supposed, that if God would not pass by 
sin without an atonement, without full satisfaction to his jus- 
tice, he must be naturally implacable ; that he has no mercy, 
because he punishes the innocent for the guilty, and bestows no 
good without an adequate compensation. Sufferings, it is true, 
can add nothing to the love of God to his creatures : but they 
may be, and it is hoped can be, proved to be necessary to a 
consistent exercise and display of that love. Atonement does 
not imply a purchase of God's mercy ; it does not imply satis- 
faction to justice, as a cancellation of debt ; nor does it infer 
any obligation on justice for the liberation of sinners ; for if it 
do, then sinners are not saved by forgiveness, since it is im- 
possible for mercy to pardon, where justice cannot punish. 
Atonement implies the necessity of sufferings, merely as a me- 
dium through which God's real disposition towards sin should 



■■rt.. 



DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 55 

be seen in such a way, that an exercise of pardon should not in- 
terfere with the dignity of government, and the authority of law. 

The sufferings of Christ for sin characterize the gospel scheme 
and distinguish it from all others. The atonement made by 
them, adds to the Christian religion its chief superiority, and 
lays the only foundation of hope for all who have just views of 
the divine law, and the moral state of man. All the doctrines 
of the gospel will derive their peculiar complexion from the 
manner in which the doctrine of atonement is explained. A 
mistake here will be peculiarly injurious, and will infallibly lead 
into error in every part of divinity. Atonement is the great 
sun in the centre of the system. Blot it out, and you are lost 
forever. Not a ray from any other quarter will dart through 
the gloomy prison of sin, to cheer its disconsolate inhabitants, 
to disenthral them from their chains, and enlighten their path 
to freedom and glory. 

The design of revelation is to unfold the true God to men, 
acting according to the principles of his nature. This God is 
just and merciful. He is disposed to punish and to pardon. 
How then shall his justice and his mercy be displayed towards 
the transgressor, without infringing or destroying each other ? 
God threatens punishment to sin. Sin is committed. God, 
instead of punishing, pardons. Where is his justice ? Where is 
his truth ? Where is the regard due to his law, his character 
and government? If he punish, where is his mercy? These 
difficulties will be obviated by a right understanding of the 
atonement which Christ made for sin. To exhaust this impor- 
tant subject, to comprehend all its connexions and consequences, 
perhaps at present exceeds all human capacity. Enough of it, 
however, can be known and understood, to enable us to per- 
ceive its excellency, and to secure our present and future fe- 
licity. As the design of atonement was to save men from the 
curse of the law, in consistency with the perfections and designs 
of God, the atonement had immediate respect to the law of God, 
to the moral state of men, and to the ultimate and chief end of 
God in creation. Without a just and proper view of these three 
points, all inquiries respecting atonement will be extremely de- 
fective, if not totally erroneous. They will leave us, like an 
unpiloted ship, driven by the winds over the pathless ocean. 



56 DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 

In the subsequent discourse, therefore, I shall 

I. First explain the nature of the divine law, the moral state of 
man, and the design of God in creation. 

II. Secondly, the matter, the necessity, and the nature of atone- 
ment. 

A few inferences will then close the subject. 

I. I shall begin the first division of this discourse, by 
First — Explaining the nature of the divine law. 
Under this denomination we are not to include all the laws 
given to the people of Israel. For though these may be termed 
divine with respect to their author, yet they are not all of a 
moral nature, and consequently not obligatory on all mankind. 
For this reason all the positive laws appertaining to the former 
dispensation, are not included in the phrases, " divine law," and 
" the law of God." These are used by way of eminence, to 
denote the moral law, as it is promulged and epitomized in the 
decalogue. 

* The laws given to the Israelites were of three kinds, moral, 
ceremonial and forensic. The first respected them as rational, 
accountable creatures ; the second, as members of the ecclesias- 
tical body ; the third, as members of the political body. The 
two last kinds of laws were peculiar to the Israelites. They 
alone had the promise of the Messiah. His death and sufferings 
for sin were prefigured by the various oflTerings and sacrifices 
enjoined in their ritual. Hence they received the ceremonial 
law, as an indication of the Messiah yet to come, who being the 
substance of all its shadows, was by the sacrifice of himself to 

* Leges autem iis latsB non unius generis fuerunt. Tres omnino theologis 
recensentur. Moralis sive decaloglca, cereraonialis, et politica, sive forensis. 
Scilicet tripliciter considerari Israeliticus populus potuit. I. Ut creaturse 
rationales, a Deo, uti suprema ratione tam moraliter, quam naturaliter depen- 
dentes. Et sic data fuit ipsi lex decalogica, quce quoad substantiam, cum lege 
naturae, homines qua tales obligante, una eademque est. 2. Ut ecclesia veteris 
testamenti ; expectans Messiam promissum, et Isetiora per ejus consummatio- 
nem tempora. Atque eo respectu acceperunt legem ceremonialem, quae ostendit 
quidem, nondum venisse Messiam, et satisfactione sua, omnia consummasse, 
fore tamen, ut veniat et omnia faciat nova, 3. Ut populus peculiaris, rempub- 
licam, genio ac indoli suffi convenientem, habens in terra Canaan." — Witsiide 
CEcon, Focd. lib. iv. cap. iv. p. 609. 



DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 56 

abrogate its authority, and discontinue its observance. Hence 
Christ, in the sufferings by which he made atonement for sin, 
had no other respect to the ceremonial law, than as he corres- 
ponded to its typical pre figurations. 

The forensic laws of the Israelites were accommodated to 
their peculiar genius as a people ; to their peculiar circum- 
stances in the land of Canaan ; and were designed to form the 
whole nation into a republican theocracy. Hence it appears, 
that the ceremonial and forensic or political laws of the Israelites, 
were of a temporary nature, and obligatory no longer than con- 
tinued by the express injunction of the legislator. In this view, 
as they did not originate in the eternal fitness and propriety of 
things, they may be styled positive, in contradistinction to those 
which are moral ; which express the unchangeable will of God, 
respecting the obligation, the obedience and disobedience, the 
reward and punishment, of rational creatures. These laws pri- 
marily flow from the absolute perfection of God, and hke his na- 
ture are sacred, immutable and eternal. These laws, summed 
up in one body, are styled the law, or law of God. To this law 
the whole of Christ's work, in making atonement for sin, had 
immediate respect. Without a just view of this law, therefore, 
the doctrine of atonement cannot be understood, nor its neces- 
sity and propriety perceived. Concerning the divine law, two 
things must be particularly noticed. 

1. It contains a prescription of certain duties. These are 
contained in the decalogue, as it was delivered at Mount Sinai, 
and are all summarily comprehended in love, as the fountain 
from which all real acceptable obedience flows. Thus Christ 
explained the law : " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with 
all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This 
is the first and great commandment ; and the second is like unto 
it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two com- 
mandments hang all the law and the prophets." Mat. xxii. 37, 
&c. Paul viewed the law in the same light, when he said, " Love 
is the fulfilling of the law." Rom. xiii. 10. No action, therefore, 
either mental or external, which does not proceed from pure love 
to God, can come under the denomination of true virtue or obedi- 
ence. This law is a delineation of perfect rectitude, and was 
8 



57 DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 

designed to govern the whole man, by inspiring right motives, 
and producing an entire correspondence between them and 
external actions. 

2. The second thing to be noticed concerning the law is, 
that it contains comminations of divine vengeance against trans- 
gression. Without these, it would not properly in its nature 
have the force and authority of a law. The language of the 
law, expressing the penal sanction, is, " Cursed is every one who 
confirmeth not all the words of the law, to do them. Deut. xxvii, 
26. This curse most undoubtedly is the just and proper punish- 
ment of sin. For it is inconsistent with the perfection of Godj 
to threaten a punishment greater or less than sin deserves. This 
is the punishment from which Christ delivers. Thus Paul says 
to the Galatians, " God sent forth his Son, made under the law, 
to redeem them that were under the law." Gal. iv. 4, 5. That 
is, to redeem them from its curse, as he explains it in another 
place. '' Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law^ 
being made a curse for us." Gal. iii. 13. Let it here be partic- 
ularly noticed, that this commination annexed to the divine laWy 
is the sum and foundation of all the others expressed in scrip- 
ture, and denounced against transgressors. Various threatening^ 
are found in the New Testament, denounced against those who 
reject the gospel. These threatenings express the real penalty of 
the divine law. For no man can slight, neglect or refuse the 
gospel, without violating the law, and incurring its penalty. That 
this penalty, which will be executed on the impenitent, in a 
future state, is endless misery or destruction, appears from the 
following passages of scripture. In Dan. xii. 2, it is said, " And 
many of them which sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, 
some to everlasting life, and some to everlasting shame and con- 
tempt." Matt, xviii. 8. " It is better for thee to enter into life 
halt or maimed, than having two hands or two feet, to be cast 
into everlasting fire." Matt. xxv. 41, Christ says to the wicked, 
" Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire." And in verse 
46, " These shall go away into everlasting punishment." Mark 
iii. 29, Christ says of him who blasphemes the Holy Ghost, that 
he is " in danger of eternal damnation." Paul says of those 
who disobey the gospel, '^ Who shall be punished with everlast- 




DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 59 



ing destruction." The punishment spoken of in these words 
undoubtedly is the penalty of the law. For the law only can 
condemn and punish. Here perhaps it will be objected, that 
the punishment implied in these words is not strictly endless, 
since the word everlasting, is sometimes appropriated to express 
things of a limited duration ; that it is not the nature of punish- 
ment to be endless, and therefore the term everlasting, when 
used to express its duration, does not prove it to be strictly end- 
less. To this it is replied, that because the term everlasting is 
in some instances used to denote a hmited duration, it does not 
follow that it is used so in all ; not even when used to express 
the duration of things which would cease to exist if left to the 
laws of nature ; for God can perpetuate whatever he pleases. 
For all our knowledge of the nature and duration of future pun- 
ishment, we are wholly indebted to revelation. In this revela- 
tion God has explained the duration of punishment, and conse- 
quently the true penalty of his law ; not only by the word ever- 
lasting, but by unequivocal determinate phrases, denoting it to 
be strictly endless. This is fully evident from the following 
passages, which positively determine the meaning of the word 
everlasting, when used to express the duration of future punish- 
ment. In Mark ix. 43, Christ says, "It is better for thee to 
enter into life maimed, than having two hands, to go into hell, 
into the fire that shall never be quenched ; where their worm 
dieth not, and their fire is not quenched." In Mat. xii. 31, it 
is said, '' The blasphemy against the Holy Ghost shall not be 
forgiven unto men." In John iii. 36, it is said, " He that be- 
lieveth not on the Son, shall not see life, but the wrath of God 
abideth on him." Of the same import are all tliose passages 
which speak of those who are said to perish, to be rejected, to 
be cast away, to be lost and destroyed. To these testimonies 
of scripture, ascertaining the penalty of the divine law to be 
endless misery or destruction, let us add the testimony of rea- 
son. 

The law, whose essence is love, tends in its nature to secure 
the highest happiness of all rational creatures. For if all com- 
ply with its requirements, if all love God with all the heart, and 
their neighbor as themselves, what room is there left for sin or 




60 



DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 



misery ? These originate not in any deficiency in the divine 
government, but in deviation from the divine law. In this God 
has discovered as much goodness as he has in the gospel. For 
the first tends to secure the highest happiness without sin, and 
the last to secure it after the introduction of sin. Whatever 
therefore is opposed to God's law, is opposed to his gospel ; 
and whatever is opposed to either, tends to introduce universal 
endless evil. If, therefore, endless punishment be not the pen- 
alty of the divine law, it does not appear that it has any pen- 
alty. For whatever penalty God annexes to his law, must be 
just ; that is, it must be as great as the evil introduced by trans- 
gression, or as great as the glory of God, and the good of the 
rational universe, require. The greatness of this penalty must 
be estimated from the consequences that would ensue from an 
unrestrained indulgence of transgression, and the magnitude of 
the object against which the transgression is committed. The 
law of God tends to universal good. As sin opposes that law, 
it tends to universal evil. Did all rational creatures commit sin 
without any restraint from divine interposition, all would be in- 
volved in endless ruin and despair. The law of God, which is 
as near to him as his own nature, would be universally violated 
and contemned. For all these consequences, so dishonoraiy to 
God, so ruinous to creatures, each one concerned in transgres- 
sion must feel himself accountable. Sin is atheism. It denies 
God. It strikes at his government and character, and conse- 
quently at all good and all happiness. As sin therefore tends to 
introduce endless evil, if punishments are to be proportioned to 
crimes, sin deserves endless punishment. Having explained 
the nature of the divine law, in considering its precepts and 
penalty, I now proceed to explain, 



Secondly, The moral state of man. By the moral state of 
man, we are to understand, the state in which he is, considered 
as an accountable creature, capable of praise and blame, of re- 
ward and punishment. This state, as it respects all men in un- 
regeneracy, appears from the scriptures to be characterised by 
the following things. 

1. It is a state of entire alienation of afFectioii from God. 



DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 61 

That is, it is a state in which the moral temper is averse to 
divine and spiritual things, insensible of their excellency, and 
regardless of their importance. This truth is expressed in 
scripture, by " being dead in trespasses and sins," " being alie- 
nated from the hfe of God, desiring not the knowledge of his 
ways," ^' receiving not the things of the Spirit." The moral 
state of man in this view, does not imply, that he does not pos- 
sess noble and exalted capacities of mind. These are not of a 
moral nature, and consequently not susceptible of depravity. 
Man, though destitute of all real holiness in the sight of God, 
though wholly sinful in all .the exercises of his heart, still pos- 
sesses natural affection, gratitude, sympathy, and sensibility ; 
desire of pleasure, and aversion to pain ; these are merely the 
affections and propensities of his constitution, and belong to 
other animals which are not moral agents. Man's depravity 
does not imply that he is destitute of all the natural ability on 
which the propriety of the divine commands and injunctions 
rests. If he be not a moral agent, if he have not ability to obey, 
it does not appear that he can be capable of disobedience. De- 
ity will never censure a blind man for not seeing, nor an idiot 
for not being wise. He requires the exercise of nothing farther 
than the capacity he bestows. All the depravity of man consists 
in the wrong use of his natural powers, and in his unwillingness 
to use them as God requires. The preceding description of the 
state of man by nature, is fully confirmed by the following pas- 
sages of scripture. Gen. vi. 5, "And God saw that the wick- 
edness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination 
of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually." Gen. 
viii. 21, " The imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth." 
Eccl. ix. 3, *^ The heart of the sons of men is full of evil." 
Jer. xvii. 9, '' The heart is deceitful above all things, and des- 
perately wicked." Rom. iii. 10, &c. " There is none righteous, 
no, not one ; there is none that understandeth, there is none 
that seeketh after God ; they are all gone out of the way ; there 
is none that doeth good, no not one." Paul testifies concerning 
himself, " I know that in me, that is in my flesh, dwelleth no 
good thing." He declares, that '' The carnal mind is enmity 



62 DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 

against God :" that " the natural man receiveth not the things 
of the Spirit of God, for they are foohshness unto him ; neither 
can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned." 
The conduct of men, in all ages and nations, fully exemphfies 
and confirms these assertions. 

2. Another thing which characterises the state of man is, that 
it is a state of guilt and condemnation. This necessarily follows, 
from the consideration that man is in the disposition of his heart 
opposed to God and his law. " By the law is the knowledge of 
sin." By this knowledge come guilt and condemnation. All 
men are under obligation to obey God's law. The law there- 
fore lays its injunctions upon them, demands obedience, and 
denounces punishment to the transgressor. " Now we know," 
says Paul, ^' that whatsoever things the law saith, it saith to them 
who are under the law ; that every mouth may be stopped, and 
the whole world may become guilty before God." Rom. iii. 19. 

3. Another thing which chamcterises the state of man is, a 
state of total impotency, as to the attainment of salvation. The 
truth of this appears from two considerations. 

1st. The law requires sinless obedience. It promises life to 
the performance of all its requirements, and to nothing else. Its 
language is, " The man that doth them shall live in them." 
But man has disqualified himself in a moral view to do these 
things, since he is '^ under sin," and continues to commit it while 
in an unrenewed state. As man, therefore, while a sinner, can- 
not render sinless perfect obedience, he cannot effect his own 
salvation. 

2d. Besides, man has incurred the penalty of the divine law. 
It stands against him, '' Cursed is every one that continue th not 
in all things, written in the book of the law, to do them." This 
penalty has been demonstrated to be endless suffering. How 
shall man free himself from it ? He can do nothing which can 
render it consistent for God to pardon. He cannot keep the 
law by perfect obedience, and consequently cannot be saved on 
that ground. If he undertake to endure its penalty, he of con- 
sequence must give up all hope of salvation. 

Having explained the moral state of man, I now proceed, 

Thirdly, To explain the design of God in creation. 



DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 63 

It is a mark of a wise and intelligent being, to have respect 
in all his actions to the accomplishment of some end. This 
circumstance principally distinguishes the actions of men from 
those of brutes. In all operations performed by rational beings, 
we expect design, and an exact adjustment of every part to the 
accomplishment of that design. When we look at the majestic 
works of God in creation and redemption, w^e are at once im- 
pressed with the absurdity of even imagining them to have been 
made without a view to some great end. In these works we 
behold order, connexion, regularity and harmony. How these 
should have existed without design, is impossible to conceive. 
It is equally impossible to conceive, how God should make such 
stupendous works, without a view to some endexceedingly great, 
glorious and important. For it is inconsistent with wisdom to 
make great preparations, and to perform great actions, for the 
accomphshment of small purposes. If God have one chief end 
in his works, we may be assured that these works are harmoni- 
ously adjusted to its accomplishment. All God's works then 
must be considered as means wisely arranged, and tending to 
one final issue. This issue must be brought into view before 
the means of its completion can be seen in their propriety and 
beauty. Let us then propose to ourselves this question ; Why 
did God create ? Surely he w^as under no necessity to do this. 
For if he was, that necessity must have been eternal, and the 
same reason must have been assigned for the existence of things, 
as for the existence of God. That reason God gave, w^hen he 
said, " I am that I am." God, as he is eternal, involves in his 
own nature the cause of his existence ; but this cannot be the 
case with any thing created. Creation, then, as it did not pro- 
ceed from necessity, must have proceeded from choice. The 
question then stands thus ; " Was God's end in creation himself, 
or the thing created?" The following considerations perhaps 
will assist us in answering this question. 

1st. Before creation nothing exterior to God existed. The 
reason then why any thing has existed, must be sought for in 
God. That reason must have been his own choice, and if so, 
then his own pleasure, and not the thing to be created. Should 
it here be objected, that God made creatures on purpose to be- 



64 DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 

stow happiness upon them, the objection proves this only, that 
God is pleased with bestowing happiness. If so, then God made 
creatures for his own pleasure, and not for theirs. If God made 
creatures merely for the sake of making them happy, why does 
he permit so many of them to be miserable ? We learn what 
God means by what he does, as well as by what he says. God 
has created all things, and in these has exhibited a picture of 
himself. But it would be absurd to suppose all this was done 
without design. 

2d. The next consideration I bring into view is, that it is in- 
consistent for infinite wisdom and goodness to prefer an inferior 
to a superior object. Such conduct would carry the most strik- 
ing marks, and v\iear the most prominent features, of injustice 
and imperfection. All creatures are as nothing, in comparison 
of the immense GOD. Collect all the powers and principahties 
of heaven, ail the perfection of angels and virtues of men, all 
the splendors scattered over creation ; collect all these into one 
vast assemblage, and they are lost before God, like a mote in 
the full blaze of the sun. Creation has added nothing to the 
real sum of virtue and happiness ; for these, wherever found 
are only streams from the great exhaustless fountain. God 
therefore created with a view to diifuse and communicate in 
different forms that immense fulness which dwelt in himself. 
God must love and regard the highest excellency most ; but this 
is nowhere but in himself. Nor is this supreme regard of God, 
to himself, as some have affirmed, an exercise of selfishness, but 
of the highest benevolence ; for this consists in a supreme re- 
gard to the greatest good. But this greatest good is God him- 
self. 

3d. In the next place we may consider further, that for God 
to act with a supreme regard to himself, or to the display of his 
true character, is to act in such a way as will secure the highest 
happiness of intelligent beings. For all true happiness results 
from the knowledge and enjoyment of the greatest good. God 
is the greatest and the only true good in the universe. It fol- 
lows from this, that the more this true good is displayed, the 
more it will be known and enjoyed. Consequently, more hap- 
piness is secured by a display of God, than could be by any 



DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 65 

thing else. God then must surely, in all his works, act with a 
supreme regard to his own glory, or to himself. This is the 
uniform language of scripture. God declares, '' that he made 
all things for " himself;" that " of him, and to him, and through 
him, are all things." 

From these considerations it appears, that God's ultimate and 
chief end in creation, w^as himself. 






DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 



PART IL 



FOR IT BECAME HIM FOR WHOM ARE ALL THINGS, AND BY WHOM ARE ALL 
THINGS, IN BRINGING MANY SONS UNTO GLORY, TO MAKE THE CAPTAIN 
OF THEIR SALVATION PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERINGS.— Hebrews ii. 10. 

Having explained the several things proposed in the first part 
of this discourse, concerning the law of God, the moral state of 
man, and the ultimate and chief end of God in creation ; I now 
proceed to explain the matter, the necessity, and the nature of 
atonement. 

Since it appears that the ultimate and chief end of God in 
creation was the display of his own nature, we may infer with 
certainty, that this end will be kept in view in the continuance 
and government of creation. For if it be not, then the arrange- 
ments in the divine administration are not calculated so as cer- 
tainly to coincide with the ultimate intention of the divine will. 
But God " worketh all things after the counsel of his own will." 
Therefore, all parts of the great scheme of creation, providence 
and redemption, will ultimately exhibit a complete picture of the 
true character of God. He will then appear in reality to be the 
" beginning and the end," " the all in all." The obedience and 
sufferings of Christ, as they are the medium through which God's 
love of holiness and hatred of iniquity are seen, so they answer, 
as to the display of God's glory, all the purposes and more than 
would have been answered by the endless obedience or suffer- 
ings of all transgressors. Atonement, therefore, by the desfth 
of Christ, is to be viewed as a necessary part of God's great plan, 
and as possessing the propriety and fitness of means for the 



DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 



67 



accomplishment of an end. If we consider atonement, in a 
general view, as that part of Christ's mediatorial work which 
rendered the forgiveness of sin consistent with God's character, 
it will comprise, as essential to its nature, more than suffering, 
though suffering appears to constitute its chief and most impor- 
tant part. If grace were to be manifested, it was proper and 
necessary that that gi-ace should " reign through righteousness;" 
that is, in such a way as was consistent with the rectitude or 
justice of God. Whatever, therefore, would bring into view the 
character and law of God as effectu^Jy as the perfect obedience 
or suffering of men, must be considered as the atonement for sin. 
Though the punishment of the transgressor would have displayed 
God's truth, and his hatred of sin, yet it would not have dis- 
played his love of mercy, and disposition to pardon. But all 
these are displayed in the salvation of the transgressor, by the 
obedience and death of Christ. 

Having premised these things, I proceed to explain. 



First, The matter of atonement, or that in which it consisted. 

1. The divine law requires perfect obedience. God, in giving 
that law, virtually declared that it was good, and ought to be 
obeyed. The sinner, by transgressing it, virtually declared that 
it was not good, and ought not to be obeyed. Should God in 
this case pardon, without manifesting his regard to the law, so as 
to establish its authority as a rule of obedience, and to display 
his aversion to sin, his conduct would coincide with that of the 
sinner, and tend to the destruction of his own government. 
But if God, by a vicari-ous or substituted obedience and suffering, 
give in his moral government a full confirmation and conviction 
of the goodness of his law, and the justice of its requirements, 
his conduct, though he pardon, stands as directly opposed to 
the conduct of the sinner, as if he should condemn the sinner to 
endure the full penalty of the law. The obedience of Christ, 
on account of the superior dignity of his character, honored the 
law, declared and confirmed it to be good, more effectually than 
the obedience of all finite creatures could have done to eternity. 
In Christ " dwelt all the fulness of the Godhead." As he had 
all wisdom and goodness, his voluntary obedience must produce 



68 DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 

a conviction that the law was good : for he could not err in his 
judgment concerning it, and consequently, if it had been a bad 
law, he would not have submitted to its precepts. The obedi- 
ence of Christ, therefore, as it virtually condemned sin, and 
expressed his approbation of the law, so as to estabhsh its au- 
thority as a rule of righteousness, appears to constitute an essen- 
tial though not the principal part of atonement. Christ, as a 
surety, engaged to fulfil all the righteousness of the law. To 
do this, it was as necessary that he should obey, as it was that 
he should suffer. The language of scripture is, " He humbled 
himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the 
cross." Phil. ii. 8. The obedience and sufferings of Christ, in 
making atonement, were inseparably connected. " Though he 
were a son," says Paul, '' yet learned he obedience by the things 
which he suffered." Heb. v. 8. " For what the law could not 
do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending his own 
Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin 
in the flesh." Rom. viii. 3. But did not Christ's obedience 
bear testimony against sin, and in favor of the law, as really as 
his sufferings ; Were not both essential to a display of justice 
and mercy ; So far as the obedience of Christ rendered the 
forgiveness of sin consistent, so far it constituted a part of atone- 
ment. 

2. The great and principal part of atonement, and which the 
scriptures most frequently bring into view, was Christ's suffer- 
ings. These were essential to his character as mediator and 
surety. It was necessary that he should be '^ made perfect 
through sufferings." It was essential that he should maintain 
the honor of the divine law, by fulfilling it in its penalty, as in 
its precepts. Hence he said, ^' Think not that I am come to 
destroy the law or the prophets ; I am not come to destroy but 
to fulfil." " For verily I say unto you, till heaven and earth 
pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till 
all be fulfilled." Mat. v. 17, 18. Hence the sufferings of Christ 
were so far from disrespecting or abrogating the law, that they 
" magnified it and made it honorable." One jot or one tittle did 
not pass till all was fulfilled. Hence it appears, that Christ en- 
dured the real penalty of the law in its full extent and mean- 



&v. 



i 



DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 69 

ing. Without a penalty, the law would have no force. It 
would have been no more than advice. As the penalty there- 
fore was essential to its nature, and as one tittle of the law did 
not pass till all was fulfilled, it follows that Christ endured the 
penalty of the law. This is fully evident from the descriptions 
given of his death and suiFerings. Is. liii. 6. " The Lord hath 
laid on him the iniquity of us all." " For the transgression of 
my people was he stricken." '' My righteous servant shall jus- 
tify many, for he shall bear their iniquities." To bear iniquity, 
to be stricken for transgression, signify to endure the evil which 
sin deserves. It is through Christ's sufferings only that we can 
obtain redemption and remission of sin. Thus says Paul, Eph. 
i, 7, -'In whom we have redemption through his blood, the for- 
giveness of sins." We are said to be redeemed by " the pre- 
cious blood of Christ." When Christ's blood is spoken oi, it is 
in allusion to the sacrifices under the law, which were typical of 
his death, and pointed to that as making atonement. ^^ It is the 
blood that maketh atonement for the soul." Lev. xvii. 11. 
" Christ also hath once suffered for sins." Hence the sufferings 
of Christ appear to have constituted the most essential part, and 
some contend the whole, of atonement. 

Secondly, I proceed to explain the necessity of atonement. 
Why could not God pardon without it ? Why should he require 
sufferings before he would extend forgiveness to the guilty ? 
Would not his mercy have appeared more conspicuous in re- 
mitting the offences of his creatures on their repentance only, 
without exacting satisfaction ? Is Deity so inexorable, that he 
will show no favor until the full penalty of the law be endured, 
and all his wrath exhausted ? These difficulties will perhaps be 
obviated by the following train of thought. 

1. The government which God exercises over his rational 
creatures, is not a government of force, but of law. Nothing 
therefore can take place under this government, that is arbitrary 
or inconsistent with the real meaning and authority of law. 
The obedience required of the subjects, is urged by the prom- 
ise of reward to the performer,and the threatening of punishment 
to the transgressor. This promise and threatening are predic- 



70 DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 

tions of things to take place, on the concurrence of particular 
specified events. On one hand stands the great Legislator, pro- 
mulging his law, and enforcing it with the penal sanction ; on 
the other stands the whole system of rational beings, receiving 
that law as an unalterable rule of righteousness. These beings 
become transgressors. They incur that penalty, for the execu- 
tion of which God's truth and faithfulness are pledged. How 
then shall God, without executing this penalty, maintain the 
dignity of his character and the authority of his law ? Not to 
execute the penalty, is to give up his government ; to repeal, 
to annul his law, and to fail in the accomplishment of his predic- 
tion. Hence it appears, that punishments are necessary in 
God's moral government. They support his law, they deter 
transgressors, and manifest divine displeasure against sin. But 
why cannot God govern his creatures without punishments ? 
This is the same thing as to ask why he cannot govern them 
without laws ? He can. He can govern them by force. But 
they will cease to be moral accountable creatures. Laws then 
are essential to moral government. Punishments are equally 
essential to laws. A law which has no penalty, or, which is 
the same, a law that is not executed, ceases to be a law. It 
loses all its force, and becomes mere advice. Therefore, if sin- 
ners are to be forgiven, it must be done in consistency with the 
meaning and authority of law ; for God cannot contradict him- 
self. The legislative and executive parts of his government 
must coincide. Hence, if sinners are to be forgiven, something 
equivalent to the punishment of sinners must be done, in order 
to fulfil the real meaning of the law, and to support government. 
Hence, in order to a consistent exercise of mercy, atonement is 
necessary on the same principle and for the same end, that pun- 
ishments would be necessary without atonement. Viewed in 
this light, atonement is a substitute for punishments. It not 
only answers all the ends of these, but many more. If these 
were necessary without atonement, atonement without these 
was equally necessary. If then we maintain that God can ex- 
ercise pardon merely on account of the sinner's repentance, we 
must maintain that laws can exist in full force without any pen- 
alties ; or that God can govern the moral system by laws, with- 



DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 71 

out caiT)*ing them into execution. A greater absurdity than 
this cannot be conceived. 

2. Atonement will appear necessary, if we consider it in the 
propriety of means adapted to the accomplishment of an end. 
The gieat plan which God has adopted for the existence, gov- 
ernment, and final state of rational creatures, is undoubtedly 
the best possible, and will ultimately terminate in the high- 
est and most noble purpose. To suppose the contrary, is to 
suppose imperfection in Deity. For the present plan has been 
brought into operation by infinite wisdom, which must discern 
and choose the best ; by infinite goodness, which must prompt 
the best ; by infinite power, which can execute the best. Of 
consequence, every part of this great plan must be so arranged, 
as directly to conduce to the highest ultimate end of the whole. 
This end has been shewn to be God himself, or the display of 
his glory. Atonement, considered in relation to the moral state 
of man, and the display of God's mercy, in saving him from that 
state, appears indispensably necessary. Unless God's mercy be 
displayed, his character will not appear to his creatures in its full 
glory ; and consequently the highest happiness of the system 
will not be secured. If the display of mercy be necessary, 
atonement is necessary. Mercy appears great in proportion to 
the greatness of the danger, misery or ruin, from which it de- 
livers. The moral state of man has been shewn to be a state of 
the greatest danger, a state of condemnation and total ruin. 
Atonement implies an acknowledgment of that state as it really 
is, and of the perfect justice of God, should he leave man in it 
without any prospect of relief. Atonement, therefore, is the 
only thing which presents salvation as an act of real grace, and 
brings into view God, plenteous in mercy. All the glory that 
will ultimately redound to God, from the salvation of sinners, 
will arise though atonement, as the great means by which God 
will accomplish the high and ultimate end of creation. Atone- 
ment was necessary therefore to the perfection of God's great 
plan. 

3. The necessity of atonement appears from the considera- 
tion, that atonement has been made, and from the frequent 
mention of it in the scriptures as the only ground on which we 



72 DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 

can obtain salvation. It is very unreasonable to suppose that 
Christ would have died for sin, unless his death had been abso- 
lutely necessary. In a view of the amazing sufferings he was 
about to endure, he prayed to his Father, saying, " If thou be 
wilhng, remove this cup from me," Luke xxii. 42. Had not his 
death been necessary, this prayer would undoubtedly have been 
answered. But without his death, neither the salvation of men 
could have been effected, nor the glory of God displayed. Hence 
Christ said, " Ought not Christ to have suffered these things ?' 
" As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the 
Son of Man be lifted up." Paul says, '' Without shedding of 
blood is no remission." In Leviticus it is said, ^' It is the blood 
that maketh atonement for the soul," xvii. 11. Christ at the in- 
stitution of the supper said, " This is my blood of the New 
Testament, which is shed for many for the remission of sins." 
Paul says, " We are justified by his blood." " In whom we 
have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins." 
" Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree.' 
The redeemed are represented as saying, '^ Thou wast slain, and 
hast redeemed us to God by thy blood," Rev. v. 9. Yet we 
are assured that '' there is no other name given under heaven 
among men whereby we must be saved." If these expressions do 
not point out the necessity of Christ's sufferings to make atone- 
ment for sin, it is impossible for language to point it out. 

Thirdly. I now proceed to explain the nature of atonement. 

The limits to which I am necessarily confined in this dis- 
course, forbid me to enter into a full and extensive discussion of 
this part of the subject. I shall therefore confine myself to the 
solution of what appears most embarrassing, and difficult to be 
understood. The nature of atonement has in some degree, and 
unavoidably so, been brought into view in the preceding parts of 
this discourse. What I propose to illustrate under this head is 
comprised in the following propositions : That the nature of 
atonement was such, that though it rendered full satisfaction to 
justice, yet it inferred no obligation on justice for the deliver- 
ance of sinners, but left their deliverance an act of pure grace. 
This will doubtless be considered by many as a great absurdity 



DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 73 

and positive contradiction. For how can full atonement for 
sin be consistent with forgiveness ? If Christ has paid the debt 
for sinners, if he has given himself a ransom, if he has pur- 
chased them, how can they be said to be pardoned, or delivered 
by grace ? If an equivalent price be paid for their redemption, 
may they not on the ground of justice demand salvation ? How 
can those be subjects of forgiveness who owe nothing ? If Christ 
has paid the debt, will it not be injustice to exact it again of the 
sinner ? A man is arrested for debt, and thrown into prison. 
Property is demanded for the discharge of his obligation. Prop- 
erty is advanced by a third person. The creditor receives it. 
Is not the debt paid ? Can the creditor in justice demand any 
thing farther of the debtor ? May not the debtor on the foot of 
justice demand dehverance from prison ? May he not demand 
his obligation, since it is cancelled by the property advanced ? 
Is not the creditor bound by justice to comply with these de- 
mands ? Would not a refusal to comply be deemed dishonesty, 
injustice and cruelty ? The creditor complies. But does he 
show any grace or favor to the debtor ? Does he treat the debt- 
or more favorably than he ought to treat him ? Does he do any 
thing more than he ought to do, or more than the debtor has a 
right to demand ? The creditor exclaims, " I have treated this 
man with so much mercy and favor, that I gave him up his ob- 
ligation when he had paid the whole sum for which it was 
given." Who does not perceive the absurdity of this ? Thus it 
may be objected, that full atonement for sin is inconsistent with 
forgiveness. But the scripture insists on full atonement, and 
yet every where holds up the dehverance of sinners, as an act 
of pure grace. This is a gordian knot in divinity. Let us not 
by violence cut it asunder, but attempt fairly to untie it. 

Before we proceed, it may not be improper to observe, that 
the greatest difficulty with which this part of the subject is em- 
barrassed, appears to have originated in the want of an accurate 
definition of justice and grace. Theologians have said much 
about these, yet few have defined them with sufficient accuracy 
to render them intelligible, or make them appear consistent. 

I shall therefore. 

First, explain the meaning of the word grace. 
10 



74 DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 

Secondly, the meaning of the word justice. 
Thirdly, apply these explanations to this part of the subject, 
with a view to solve the difficulty with which it is embarrassed. 

Fir^t. What are we to understand by the word grace ? 

We are to understand by it the exercise of favor, and conse- 
quently the bestowment of good where evil is deserved, and 
may in justice be inflicted. Where there is no exposure to evil^ 
there is no room for the exercise of grace. He who is not 
guilty is not a subject of pardon. He who does not deserve 
punishment cannot be said to be freed from it by an act of fa- 
vor. Grace therefore always imphes, that the subject of it is 
unworthy^ and v/ould have no reason to complain, if all the evil 
to which he is exposed were inflicted on him. Grace will ap- 
pear great according to the view which the sinner has of his 
own ill desert, and the consciousness he possesses of the pun- 
ishment or evil from which he is delivered. Grace and justice 
are opposite in their nature. Grace gives ; justice demands. 
Their provinces are entirely separate. Though they are united, 
yet they are not blended in man's salvation. Hence that re- 
markable passage in Rom. xi. 6 ; "If by grace, then it is na 
more of works, otherwise grace is no more grace. But if it be 
of works, then it is no more grace, otherwise work is no more 
work/' 

Secondly. What are we to understand by the word justice? 
It assumes three denominations; — commutative, distributive, 
and public. 

1 Commutative justice respects property only.* " It consists 
in an equal exchange of benefits," or in restoring to every man 
his own. 

2. Distributive justice respects the moral character of men. It 
respects them as accountable creatures, obedient or disobedient. 
It consists in ascertaining their virtue and sin, and in bestowing 
just rewards, or inflicting just punishments. 

* See Doddridge's Lectures, p. 190 ; and also Dr. Edwards' third sennon, 
preached at New Haven, 1785. 



*w 



DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 75 



3. Public or general justice, respects what is fit or right, as 
to the character of God, and the good of the universe. In this 
sense, justice comprises all moral goodness, and properly means 
the righteousness or rectitude of God, by which all his actions 
are guided, with a supreme regard to the greatest good. Jus- 
tice, considered in this view, forbids that any thing should take 
place in the great plan of God, which would tarnish his glory, 
or subvert the authority of his law. 

Thirdly. Let us now apply these explanations to the solution 
of the difficulty under consideration. 

1. Did Christ satisfy commutative justice ? Certainly not. 
Commutative justice had no concern in his sufferings. Men 
had taken no property from God, and consequently were under 
no obligation to restore any. But do not the scriptures repre- 
sent Christ as giving himself a ransom, and as buying his people 
with a price ? They do. They also represent men, while under 
the influence of sin, as prisoners, slaves, captives. These ex- 
pressions are all figurative, borrowed from sensible to express 
moral or spiritual things, and therefore are not to be explained 
as if literally true. If we say that Christ hath redeemed us, 
that he has bought us, that he has paid the debt and discharged 
us — if we have any consistent meaning, it must be this : That 
in consequence of what Christ has done, we are delivered from 
sin, in as great a consistency with justice, as a debtor is deliv- 
ered from his obligation, or the demands of law, when his debt 
is paid. That is, God extends pardon in such a way, through 
Christ, that he does not injure the authority of his law, but sup- 
ports it as effectually as if he inflicted punishment, 

2. Did Christ satisfy distributive justice ? Certainly not : Dis- 
tributive justice respects personal character only. It condemns 
men because they are sinners, and rewards them because they 
are righteous. Their good or ill desert are the only ground on 
which distributive or moral justice respects them. But good 
and ill desert are personal. They imply consiousness of praise 
or blame, and cannot be transferred or altered so as to render 
the subjects of them more or less worthy. What Christ did, 
therefore, did not take ill desert from men, nor did it place them 



76 DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 

in such a situation that God would act unjustly to punish them 
according to their deeds. If a man has sinned, it will always 
remain a truth that he has sinned, and that according to dis- 
tributive justice he deserves punishment. In this sense justice 
admits the condemnation of Paul as much as it does of Judas. 
The salvation of the former is secured, and his condemnation 
rendered impossible by another consideration. 

3. Did Christ satisfy pubHc justice? Undoubtedly he did. 
This is evident from what has already been advanced respecting 
the necessity of atonement, in order to a consistent exercise of 
mercy. Christ's sufferings rendered it right and fit, with respect 
to God's character and the good of the universe, to forgive sin. 
The atonement made by Christ presented the law, the nature 
of sin, and the displeasure of God against it, in such a light, 
that no injury would accrue to the moral system, no imputation 
would be against the righteousness of the great Legislator, though 
he should forgive the sinner, and instate him in eternal felicity. 
Perfect justice therefore is done to the universe, though all 
transgressors be not punished according to their personal de- 
merit. The death of Christ therefore is to be considered as a 
great, important, and public transaction, respecting God and the 
whole system of rational beings. PubUc justice requires, that 
neither any of these be injured, nor the character and govern- 
ment of the great Legislator disrespected, by the pardon of any. 
In these respects pubhc justice is perfectly satisfied by the death 
of Christ. This is evident from the following passages of scrip- 
ture. Uom. iii. 21 ; " But now the righteousness (rectitude or 
justice) of God is manifested without the law, being witnessed 
by the law." Before the introduction of these words the apostle 
had demonstrated, that the whole world, Jews and Gentiles, 
were all under sin and condemnation. " Now," says he, " we 
know that whatsoever things the law saith, it saith to them that 
are under the law, that every mouth may be stopped, and the 
whole world become guilty before God." All, if treated accord- 
ing to distributive justice, must be found guilty and condemned. 
" Therefore," says Paul, " by the deeds of the law shall no flesh 
be justified." How, then, it might be inquired, can any be 
justified, and yet God not give up his law, but appear perfectly 



DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 77 

righteous and just ? The answer follows. " By the righteousness 
of God, which is manifested without the law, being witnessed 
by the law." Rom. iii. 21. That is, the righteousness or jus- 
tice of God, with respect to himself and the universe, is clearly 
manifested, though he do not execute the law, as to distributive 
justice, on transgressors, but pardon and save them. This is so 
far from being contrary to the law, that it is witnessed by the 
law. For the sufferings of Christ demonstrate, that God no 
more gives up the penalty of the law, than if he should inflict 
it on the original transgressor. The righteousness or justice 
manifested in this way is through Christ ; " whom," says Paul, 
"God hath set forth to be a propitiation, through faith in his 
blood." For what end ? " To declare his righteousness for the 
remission of sins." " To declare at this time his righteousness 
(for this purpose) that he might be just, and the justifier of him 
that believeth in Jesus," Rom. iii. 25, 26. Hence it is said, 
" Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that 
believeth," Rom. x. 4. That is, the end of the law is as fully 
answered in the salvation of men by Christ, as it would have 
been if they had never transgressed, but had obtained hfe by 
perfect obedience. It is said, " If we confess our sins, he is just 
to forgive us our sins," 1 John, i. 9. He is just to himself, to 
his law, to the universe. God styles himself " a just God, and 
a Saviour." Is. xlv. 21. Hence justice and mercy harmonize 
in man's salvation. 

From the preceding statement of the nature of grace and 
justice, it appears, 

Firstj That atonement, and consequently the pardon of sin, 
have no respect to commutative justice. 

Secondly J That the sufferings of Christ did not satisfy distrib- 
utive justice, since that respects personal character only ; and 
therefore, with respect to distributive justice, salvation is an act 
of perfect grace. 

Thirdly, That Christ's sufferings satisfied public justice ; and 
therefore, with respect to pubhc justice, salvation is an act of 
perfect justice. 

Thus the seeming inconsistency between full atonement for 
sin, and pure grace in salvation, vanishes and disappears. The 



78 DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 

system of redemption rises into view like a magnificent edifice, 
displaying the greatest order, proportion and beauty. 

Having advanced v^^hat I proposed, respecting the matter, the 
necessity and the nature of atonement; I shall conclude with a 
few inferences. 

1. From the preceding discourse may be inferred, the indis- 
soluble connexion between the doctrine of atonement and the 
divinity of Christ. For it has been demonstrated, that the pen- 
alty of the law is endless misery, and that that penalty was, in 
its full extent and meaning, endured by Christ, in order to a 
consistent exercise of mercy. No finite created being could, in 
a limited time, endure the full penalty of the law in any respect. 
Yet we are assured, that Christ endured it when " he was made 
a curse." As he comprised in his divine nature an infinite quan- 
tity of existence, he could in a limited time endure a punishment 
which to a creature would be endless. This does not imply that 
the divine nature suffered. This was impossible. In this nature 
consisted the personality of Christ. As he took into union with 
it the human nature, he possessed a perfect consciousness of the 
oneness of that nature with himself. Hence the sufferings of 
the human nature derive all their worth and value from the di- 
vine nature. The divinity of Christ therefore was essential to 
atonement, and was the only consideration that made his suffer- 
ings answer all the ends of moral government, so as to render 
the salvation of sinners consistent or possible. It is unreasona- 
ble to suppose, that the Son of God would have been sent to 
effect the work of redemption, if it could have been effected by 
a mere creature ; yet we are assured, that the " word that was 
God " " was made flesh." Hence, those who entertain such an 
opinion of the law of God, and the moral state of man, as to see 
no need of atonement, reject the divinity of Christ. But so long 
as atonement shall appear necessary, so long the doctrine of 
Christ's divinity must be admitted, and so long it will appear 
essential to Christianity. 

2. From the preceding statement of the doctrine of atone- 
ment, we infer the erroneousness of that scheme of salvation 
which represents Christ suffering on the ground of distributive 
justice. If justice could demand his sufferings, he was treated 



DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 79 

according to his own personal character, and of consequence his 
sufferings had no more merit than the sufferings of a transgressor. 
If these were just, in the same sense that those of the sinner 
would be just, he endured no more than he ought to endure. 
His death therefore on this plan made no atonement for sin. 
Besides, to represent Christ's sufferings to be the same as those 
of his people, is to destroy all grace in salvation. For if in him 
they have endured all to which they were exposed, from what 
are they delivered ? In what respect are they forgiven ? 

3. If the preceding account of the law of God and the doc- 
trine of atonement be true, we infer the erroneousness and ab- 
surdity of that scheme, which represents the punishments of a 
future state to be disciplinary, and designed wholly for the good 
of the sufferers. According to the scriptures, there is an exact 
distribution of punishments in the next world. Those who suf- 
fer are represented ''receiving according to that they have 
done," " being rewarded according to their deeds." If so, they 
are treated according to law. For as this is the true measure 
of hohness and sin, this alone ascertains the merit and demerit 
of all actions, and dispenses proportionable rewards and punish- 
ments. If those therefore in a future state who suffer, suffer 
according to their deeds, they suffer according to law. If they 
. suffer according to law, they suffer according to justice, and con- 
sequently all they deserve, and all to which they were ever ex- 
posed. How then are they saved ? It is contended that they are 
saved by grace. How can this be ? If they suffer according to 
their deeds, they suffer all that justice can inflict upon them, 
and consequently are not pardoned. If they suffer all they de- 
serve, there is no grace in their exemption from farther suffer- 
ings, for justice forbids this. Therefore this scheme of disci- 
plinary punishments, while it pretends to vindicate grace, de- 
stroys it. If men are saved after they have suffered according 
to their deeds, as they are not forgiven, they are not saved by 
Christ, any more than if he had never died. Of consequence, 
the scheme of disciplinary punishments virtually sets aside the ne- 
cessity and importance of Chrisf s sufferings. But revelation 
assures us, that '' other foundation can no man lay than that 
is laid, which is Jesus Christ," 1 Cor. iii. 1]. "Neither is 
there salvation in any other, for there is none other name 



80 DISCOURSE ON THE ATONEMENT. 

under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved." 
Acts iv. 12. 

4. From the nature of atonement, nothing can with certainty 
be inferred as to the numbers who shall finally be saved. Had 
God given us no farther light on this subject than what we de- 
rive from the sufferings of Christ, whether we consider them for 
a part or for all of mankind, we should have been wholly in the 
dark as to the final issue of those sufferings. As the nature and 
design of these were to render the pardon of sin consistent, it 
appears that the atonement is as sufficient for the salvation of 
milhons of worlds, as of an individual. For whatever would 
render one act of pardon consistent, simply as to the exercise of 
mercy, would render another consistent, and so on in infinitum. 
The number of instances in which atonement will be apphed, 
and pardon granted, will depend wholly on the sovereign will 
and determination of God. One thing is doubtless certain, sal- 
vation will be extended as far as is consistent with infinite per- 
fect benevolence, or as far as the glory of God and the highest 
good of the universe require. 

I now conclude this subject, by recommending it to your most 
serious and careful attention. You will find it to be the only 
ground on which you can hope for future felicity. Atonement 
for sin is a pecuhar and distinguishing doctrine of the Christian 
system. Viewed as the scripture represents it, it appears as high 
above all human thought and invention, as heaven is above 
earth. Upon a thorough examination it will be found consis- 
tent with the soundest reason, suited to advance the happiness 
of man, and to display the glory of GOD. 



I 



SERMON 

PREACHED SEPTEMBER 14, 1796. 

AT THE 

DEDICATION 

OF THE 

MEETING HOUSE, 

BELONGING TO THE CATHOLIC BAPTIST SOCIETY IN 

CUMBERLAND. 



11 



A SERMON. 



THIS IS NONE OTHER BUT THE HOUSE OF GOD ; AND THIS IS THE GATE 
OF HEAVEN Genesis xxxviii. 28 . 



A BELIEF in the existence of God, and in his intercourse with 
rational creatures has pervaded all ages and nations. Every 
temple that has been built, every victim that has been slain, all 
the rites of paganism, and all the institutions of Christianity, 
bear testimony in favor of this assertion. The various and op- 
posite methods in which men have attempted to approach God, 
to render him their worship and to receive his favors, evince 
that they were ignorant of their true state by nature, of the di- 
vine attributes, and of the great Mediator, through whom all 
blessings descend. Inspiration assures us, that '^ there is one 
God, and one Mediator between God and men, the man Christ 
Jesus." 1 Tim. ii. 5. Through him every true Christian, wor- 
shipping in spirit and in truth, looks up to God as his parent, 
and receives divine favors. Intercourse in this way with God, 
is a peculiar privilege of every real believer, and a distinguish- 
ing trait in his character. It marks his progress through life. 
It bears him above immoderate attachment to earthly, perish- 
able objects, sublimes his soul, invigorates his affections, enlarges 
his capacity of enjoyment, and qualifies him for the service of 
heaven. While he sits under the shadow of the Almighty, his 
ravished soul, struggling with extasy, bursts from her confines 



0'' 

84 DEDICATION SERMON. 

of clay, jciiiing with '' angels and the spirits of the just made 
perfect." His religion is not founded on conjecture ; it is no 
idle formality, no uninteresting speculation ; but it is a truth, a 
substance, a heart-felt reality, a heaven on earth. All the ope- 
rations of the divine spirit, in regeneration, repentance, faith, 
sanctification and communion with God, are indications of his 
favor, and incontestible evidences of the reality of vital piety. 
Though reason abundantly confirms the divine original of the 
Christian religion, and points it out as the only road to glory ; 
yet reason is by no means the chief source from which believers 
in general derive their assurance and consolation. They assent 
because they realize. They believe, because they feel. They 
rest assured, because they have the evidence of their internal 
senses. " He that believeth on the Son of God, hath the wit- 
ness in himself." 1 John v. 10. He who has been brought by 
the power of God to a cordial reception of the gospel, can no 
more doubt the reality of religion, than he can the existence of 
the material world. In both cases he rehes on the veracity of 
his sensible experience. How absurd then and vain is it, for 
those who possess no real knowledge of religion, to represent it 
as a phantom, a cheat, or delusion ! With the same propriety 
might a deaf man deny the existence of sound, or a bhnd man 
the existence of light and colors. Christians, in all ages and 
countries, have the happiness to " know in whom they have be- 
lieved. God is hmited neither by time nor place. He often 
comes sensibly near to his people by day and by night, on the 
ocean or on the land, in the populous city or in the lonely des- 
ert. Behold Jacob, taking leave of his aged father, flying from 
the rage of an incensed brother, having no one to accompany 
him through a strange country. The sun falls beneath the hori- 
zon. Darkness spreads over the earth, and muffles up the sky. 
Jacob in the open air lays his head upon a stone. He sleeps. 
In this exposed and sohtary state, his heavenly Father meets 
him, and fills him with consolation. God says to him, -'behold, 
I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou 
goest." And Jacob awaked out of his sleep, and said, 
" surely the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not." — ^' How 
dreadful is this place ! This is none other but the house of God, 



DEDICATION SERMON. 



85 



and this is the gate of heaven." — You will please to observe 
that Jacob utters these words while his heart is filled with a 
lively sense of God's presence. It is on this account that he 
calls the place in which he was the house of God, and the gate 
of heaven. It is on the same account that the scriptures repre- 
sent the church as the house of God. I propose, therefore, on 
the present occasion, to accommodate the words of the text to 
the meaning of those phrases in the scriptures, which speak of 
the church as an habitation for God. In discussing the subject 
presented in the text, I shall in the 

I. First place, shew what constitutes a church that may be 
styled the house of God. 

II. In the second place, consider the church as a state pre- 
paratory for heaven. 

A few observations shall then conclude the subject. 

I. I shall in the first place shew what constitutes a church 
that may be styled the house of God. 

Under this head, I do not propose to point out all the partic- 
ular things necessary to the organization, instruction, and gov- 
ernment of a church ; but the nature of it, considered as an 
habitation for God. A church consists of a number of real be- 
lievers in Christ, united together under his laws, for the worship 
and service of God. The following are some of the leading 
traits in their characters : 

1. They have experienced regeneration. This is expressed 
in the scriptures by various phrases, tending to point out its 
greatness and importance. Christ represented it under the no- 
tion of a birth, when he said to Nicodemus, " except a man be 
born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." Paul repre- 
sented it as " the putting off and crucifixion of the old man, as 
the destruction of the body of sin, as a restoration from death, 
as a renovation of the spirit of the mind, as a new creation." 
The necessity of this change originates in the depravity and sin- 
fulness of the human heart. These are abundantly testified of 
in the scriptures, and confirmed by the conduct of men in all 
ages and nations. The testimony of eternal truth is, that men 
have all gone out of the way ; that there is none that doeth 



86 DEDICATION SERMON. 

good ; that there is no fear of God before their eyes ; that they 
desire not the knowledge of his ways ; that they have come 
short of his glory ; that the carnal mind is enmity against God ; 
that every thought of the imagination of man's heart is evil, 
and that continually. These expressions convey an idea of the 
greatest aUenation of heart from God and holiness. Though all 
men are sinners, yet all are not equally criminal, obstinate and 
incorrigible. All, however, are by nature in such a state as to 
need a renovation of heart to fit them for the house of God, 
and the enjoyment of heaven. He whose soul is the haunt of 
wickedness, whose passions are the vile minions of riot and de- 
bauchery, whose Hfe is a catalogue of sins ; he can be roused 
from his lethargy by nothing but the loudest thunders of Sinai, 
and be changed to holiness by nothing but the resistless arm of 
the Almighty. The essence of this change consists neither in 
the illumination of the understanding, nor in the reception of 
any new faculties ; but in the infusion of a holy disposition, 
prompting to holy exercises of heart and conduct in life. The 
great work of regeneration is by the scriptures uniformly ascrib- 
ed to the Holy Spirit, as the immediate agent. Thus said 
Christ, '^ except a man be born of the Spirit, he cannot see the 
kingdom of God." " That which is born of the Spirit is spirit." 
John iii. 5, 6. John, speaking of those who received Christ, 
says they were " born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, 
nor the will of man, but of God." John i. 13. Paul to the Cor- 
inthians says, " we all beholding as in a glass the glory of the 
Lord, are changed into the same image, from glory to glory, 
even as by the Spirit of the Lord." 2 Cor. iii. 18. Paul to Titus 
says of God, '^ he saved us by the washing of regeneration, and 
renewing of the Holy Ghost." Tit. iii. 5. The Spirit of God 
sheds abroad his love in the heart, and conveys to it the same 
kind of disposition which resides in himself. Hence he who is 
regenerated, is united to God in love. ^' For God is love, and 
he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him." 
1 John iv. 16. Hence it is, that all who are regenerated, "are 
built up a spiritual house." None but such can properly be- 
long to it, and constitute an habitation for the living God. Thus 
regeneration appears to be an essential trait in the character of 



DEDICATION SERMON. — . 87 



true members, who form a church that may be styled the house 
of God. 

2. The next trait in their character is, that they have true re- 
pentance for sin. This is indispensably necessary to pardon and 
salvation. This was the uniform language of John the Baptist, 
of Jesus Christ, and his apostles. John '' preached the baptism 
of repentance for the remission of sins." Jesus taught " that re- 
pentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name 
among all nations." The apostles preached the same doctrine, 
when they said, " repent and be baptized, every one of you, in 
the name of Christ, for the remission of sins." Evangelical re- 
pentance consists not in occasional pangs of remorse, horrors of 
conscience, or resolutions to amend. If it does, then a Judas, 
a Fehx, and a Herod, must be numbered with the pious, and be 
enrolled on the hst of salvation. There are scarcely any, who, 
at some period of their lives, have not been alarmed with fearful 
apprehensions for the consequences of sin, have reformed their 
conduct, and implored forgiveness of God. These things they 
may have done, and be entire strangers to true repentance. This 
penetrates the inmost retirements of the heart. It consists in a 
holy disgust of sin, considered as a most heinous crime against 
God, and prompts the true penitent not merely to view sinful 
actions with abhorrence, but to trace them up to their origin, 
and disclose all the secret recesses of wickedness* Even when 
his conduct is fair and unblameable in the eyes of the world, he 
laments'over the depravity of his heart. He possesses a deep 
and affecting sense of the intrinsic evil of sin ; and opposes it, 
not merely because it exposes to punishment, not merely because 
it would injure his character, and squander his estate, but chiefly 
because he views it to be vile in its own nature, ruinous to his 
peace in its tendency, dishonorable to God, rebelKon against his 
authority, opposition to his holiness and goodness. That re- 
pentance cannot be considered as genuine, which does not pro- 
duce a uniform disgust of all sin, in every kind and degree ; 
while it prompts to an invincible perseverance in every known 
duty, and an humble dependence on the mercy of God through 
Jesus Christ. Repentance, as it impUes an entire change of 
motives, feelings and actions, respecting sin, is an indispensable 



8S DEDICATION SERMON. 

prerequisite to the enjoyment of God and heaven. Salvation 
without it, appears highly irrational and absurd. For God to 
receive one without repentance, would be to receive one as a 
friend whom he knew to be an enemy. Hence it appears nec- 
essary, that all who belong to God's house, should have true re- 
pentance for sin. 

3. Another trait in their character is, that they possess true 
evangelical faith. By this we are to understand a firm persua- 
sion of all revealed truth ; a persuasion effected in the under- 
standing by divine testimony, and wrought into the heart by 
the influences of the Divine Spirit. Hence it appears, that 
genuine faith is no dormant uninteresting principle, leaving the 
possessor in a state of languor and indifference : but active, 
producing good works, assuring of justification and eternal 
life. Paul says, " faith is the substance of things hoped for, 
and " the evidence of things not seen." According to this 
definition, it appears to be a kind of divine internal sense, dif- 
fusing itself into futurity, conversing with distant invisible ob- 
jects, bringing them home into present enjoyment, substantiat- 
ing them to the mind, and laying a firm and immoveable founda- 
tion for hope. Evangelical faith has more immediate refer- 
ence to Christ in his various offices ; to all parts of his work as 
Mediator, Redeemer and Saviour ; to his righteousness as the 
only ground of acceptance with God ; to divine mercy through 
Christ ; for the pardon of sin ; for the sanctification of the heart ; 
for growth in heavenly life ; for complete deliverance from evil, 
and instatement in eternal beatitude. Hence the scriptures re- 
present faith as " working by love." No wonder that it does ; 
for it brings into view God's most holy character in the great 
scheme of redemption by Jesus Christ, and descries all the glo- 
rious realities of the heavenly state. When the heart is recon- 
ciled by divine grace, the soul not only apprehends God's char- 
acter, but approves it, loves and admires it, as infinitely excel- 
lent, and longs to be changed into the same image. Faith works 
by love towards men. It displays itself in kind benevolent af- 
fection, especially to " the household of faith." It embraces, 
with arms of love," all good men of every denomination, and 
views them as children of God and heirs of glory. The scrip- 



DEDICATION SERMON. 89 

tures represent faith as " purifying the heart." This effect ap- 
pears necessarily to result from its nature. We are so consti- 
tuted, as readily to assimilate ourselves to those objects about 
which we are conversant. As feith brings into our view and 
enjoyment things heavenly and holy, it changes us " into their 
image, from glory to glory." Victory over the world is anoth- 
er effect ascribed to faith. '• This is the victory that overcom- 
eth the world, even our faith." As faith brings into view things 
of eternal weight and importance, the world, with all its pomp 
and pageantry, recedes and dwindles to a point. The soul ris- 
es above it, and soaring towards the divine nature, is lost in its 
immensity and glory. Thus it appears that faith is an exalted 
grace, and fits its subjects for the house of God. 

4. Another trait in their character is, devotedness of heart to 
God. This implies a cordial approbation of his character, laws 
and government. As all true religion is seated in the heart, the 
source of action and virtue, devotedness of heart imphes a con- 
stant obedience of all the affectior.s to the divine will, and an 
external practical observance of all the duties, religious and 
moral. He who has been born from above, whose heart has 
been filled with sincere godly sorrow for sin, who depends for 
salvation entirely on the mercy of God in Jesus Christ, consid- 
ers himself not as his own, but as " bought with a price ;" and 
endeavors to glorify God in body and spirit. He does not con- 
sider religion as a task, but as a pleasure. He finds that the 
Saviour's •' yoke is easy, and his " burthen light." He rejoices 
to possess religion in his heart, purifying his affections, and fit- 
ting him for the house of God. 

5. Another trait in the character of those who compose the 
true church, styled the house of God, is, that God's glory is the 
highest object in their view and regard. His nature is the sum 
of all excellence and perfection. It contains everything that 
can attract the affections, excite the admiration, and call forth the 
praises of all holy beings. " God is love." With this all his actions 
and all his treatment of rational creatures, will perfectly corres- 
pond. For God can do nothing contrary to himself. All his ar- 
rangements and operations, in the great works of creation, in the 
great kingdoms of providence and grace, are calculated to effect 

12 






90 DEDICATION SERMON. 

a perfect display of his true character, and to secure the high- 
est happiness of the rational universe. A display of God's true 
character is his glory. . Those then who are real friends to God, 
must feel a disposition to coincide with all his designs and ope- 
rations. 

6. Another trait m their character is, that they strive for high- 
er attainments in the divine life. The principle of this is im- 
planted in the heart in regeneration. Under the influences of 
the Holy Spirit, it is increased and brought forth in all its ope- 
rations. This life implies an inward propensity to holiness, and 
a divine activity in all the powers of the soul. It is, in its na- 
ture, tendency and effects, utterly opposed to sin. It implies 
an elevation of the affections towards God, and a progressive 
advancement towards heaven. '' It is a well of water, spring- 
ing up into everlasting life." It is communicated from Christ 
to all his sincere disciples. They look to him as the exhaust- 
less fountain, and eagerly anticipate the glorious period when 
they shall be changed into his image, and satiated with his ful- 
ness. 

Various other things enter into the character of those who 
are real members of the house of God. Those I have enumer- 
ated appear the most essential. For all who have experienced 
them, feel united together, and when worshipping their common 
Parent and Saviour, are sensible of his presence, and can ex- 
claim, " this is none other but the house of God, and this is the 
gate of heaven." 

II. I now proceed in the second place, to consider the church 
as a preparatory state for heaven. 

The design of rehgion is to mehorate the hearts, reform the 
manners, and save the souls of men. For these important ends, 
Jesus descended from heaven, and founded the church on that 
rock, against which the gates of hell shall not prevail. His de- 
sign was to purify the hearts of men, in a state of discipline 
and enjoyment, and thus prepare them for the sublime delights 
of heaven. That we may view the state of the church in the 
present world as preparatory for happiness and glory in the next, 
we need but consider them in a comparative point of light. 



DEDICATION SERMON. 91 

1. If we consider the church as a state of society, it will ap^ 
pear preparatory for heaven. In this point of view, it appears 
peculiarly accommodated to man, as a rational, communicative 
being. Not only his necessities and dependencies, but his nat- 
ural instincts, impel him into society. Neither the beauties of 
nature, nor the inventions of art, can dissipate the gloom, nor 
alleviate the irksomeness, of perpetual solitude. The pleasures 
of social intercourse hold an elevated rank in the scale of man's 
enjoyments. They expand his affections, enlarge his capacity, 
refine his nature, and learn him to guide his conduct by the 
rules of decency and propriety. If such are the effects and en- 
joyments resulting from the society of men possessing different 
inclinations, pursuing different objects, and aiming at different 
ends — what that is truly excellent, amiable and delightful, may 
we not expect from the society of those, who imbibe the same 
spirit, possess the same moral temper, join in the same worship, 
and strive for the same heaven ? Men in a church state are 
united by the nearest ties ; ties founded in love. " Being knit 
together in love, they hold the head from which all the body, by 
joints and bands, having nourishment ministered, increaseth with 
the increase of God." Col. ii. 2, 19. Heaven appears to be 
the continuance and perfection of that happiness which is be- 
gun in the social state of the church on earth. Here we are 
surrounded with numerous imperfections, liable to many diffi- 
culties and animosities ; but in heaven, these will cease ; per- 
fect union will take place ; a more extensive society will com- 
mence ; the affections will be enlarged beyond all bounds ; all 
hearts will leap with extasy ; each, happy in itself, and in that 
" great multitude, which no man can number, of all nations, 
and kindreds, and people, and tongues." Thus the church 
state, in the present world, considered as a society, appears to 
be the gate of heaven. 

2. The church, considered as a state of progression in knowl- 
edge and holiness, is preparatory for heaven. 

Those who have experienced the great change of regenera- 
tion, are brought to a particular knowledge of God, and in a de- 
gree assimilated to his nature. In these consists the highest 
excellency of the Christian religion. It imparts to men the dis- 



92 DEDICATION SERMON. 

positions and moral qualities of God. These at first are drawn 
in small characters, but under the light of truth, they enlarge 
and rise into view, till Deity stands confessed in man. '' We 
all, with open face, beholding as in a glass the glory of the 
Lord, are changed into the same image." 2 Cor. iii. 18. That 
men in the present obscure and sinful state need some particu- 
lar knowledge of God, and some change of their moral temper 
into his hkeness, before they can be prepared to enjoy him, is a 
truth too reasonal)le and obvious to require much illustration. 
The church state is a dispensation of light and holiness, by 
which men are trained up as in a family, under one common 
parent, and fitted for heaven. It is by the gospel only that men 
can acquire true and saving knowledge of God. By the works 
of creation they may learn his existence, power, wisdom and 
goodness ; by the law of Moses they may learn his holiness, jus- 
tice, and opposition to sin ; but it is by the gospel only that they 
learn his mercy, in the forgiveness of transgression, and in the 
salvation of the soul. In Christ they behold him under the en- 
dearing character of Father. Under him, they are here in a 
church state trained up as his children, growing in hi* knowl- 
edge, forming into his likeness, and looking forward to the man- 
sions of glory. Knowledge of God appears to be an indispen- 
sable prerequisite to eternal life. Christ says, "this is life eternal, 
that they might know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, 
whom thou hast sent." John xvii. 3. From the scriptures it 
appears, that the knowledge and enjoyment of Christ will con- 
stitute an essential part of the enjoyment of heaven. They will 
see him as he is ; they will dwell with him ; he will lead them 
by the waters of hfe ; he will be their everlasting light and glo- 
ry. In these respects the house of God appears to be the gate 
of heaven ; for all its inhabitants know and enjoy Christ. They 
receive him as God and man, as a prophet to instruct them, as 
a friend to increase their consolations, as a king to reign over 
them, and protect them from all their enemies. " They grow in 
grace, and in the knowledge of their Lord and Saviour." They 
have a special knowledge of the Holy Spirit, illuminating their 
understanding, sanctifying their hearts, assuring them of pardon, 
justification and eternal life. They will pass on from one degree 



DEDICATION SERMON. C3 

of improvement to another, till they shall be ushered into the 
full enjoyment of eternal beatitude. Various other circum- 
stances might be mentioned, and considerations adduced, to 
present the church as preparatory for heaven ; but the narrow 
limits prescribed by the present occasion, urge me to finish this 
subject with some observations. 

1. From the first part of this disclosure, we learn what are 
the most essential traits in the character of those who are fit to 
become members of the house or church of God ; and conse- 
quently, that if we admit those of dissimilar character, we devi- 
ate from Christianity and vital religion. For if we consider 
those as belonging to the house of God who have not been born 
from above, we consider those to be fit to worship him, who, 
according to declaration of Christ, cannot enter his king- 
dom. How then could a church, composed of such characters, 
be considered as the temple of God, or the gate of heaven ? 
How could those be fit to enjoy God in that holy mansion, who 
on earth had no delight in him ? The requirements of the gos- 
pel are all reasonable and consistent, suited to the nature of 
God, and the state of man. Men are required to repent, be- 
cause this reconciles them to God, and leads them to view sin 
as God views it. Men are required to exercise faith in Christ, 
because this implies an acknowledgment of him in all his char- 
acters, works and offices ; and consequently a cordial approba- 
tion of salvation through his mediation. Men are required to 
devote their whole hearts to God, to do all things for his glory, 
and strive for heaven. How reasonable are these things ! If 
compUed with, how conducive to our happiness ! How can we 
expect to enjoy God unless we love him supremely ? Heaven, 
to an impenitenf heart, would be like the richest banquet to the 
sick. Is it not then of the greatest importance for us to inquire 
whether we are born from above ? Whether we sincerely repent 
of our sins ? Whether we strive to oppose the wickedness of 
our hearts ? Whether we receive and approve the Saviour ? 
Whether we depend on him for salvation and eternal life ? Un- 
less we do these things, we delude ourselves, if we entertain 
hopes of heaven. For common sense teaches us, that we can- 
not enjoy an object, unless our disposition be assimilated to its 




94 DEDICATION SERMON. 

nature. How then ought our attention to be excited, that we 
be reconciled to God ? Will neither the terrors of eternal dark- 
ness, nor the charms of eternal light, rouse us from our lethargy ? 
Shall Jesus divest himself of his heavenly radiance ? Shall fie 
descend to earth in the form of a servant ? Shall he agonize and 
die upon the cross ? Shall he descend into the dreary mansions 
of the grave, and dethrone the king of terrors ? Shall he ascend 
on high, amidst the shouts of admiring angels, and fling wide 
open the gates of Paradise for men ? Shall he disclose to our 
view the ever-verdant tree of life, bending with the food of 
archangels, and spreading its branches for the " healing of the 
nations?" Shall the glorious Saviour do all these things for us, 
and we remain unmoved and impenitent? God forbid. Let us 
receive him as our Lord and Master. We shall then look to- 
wards heaven as our proper residence. We shall anticipate its 
joys, and triumph over the ruins of sin. We shall leap with 
pleasure at the approach of our emancipation. Our hearts will 
expand with rapture in the prospect of that period, when the 
Saviour, standing amidst his ransomed millions, shall lift the 
sword of victory, and the pale horse of death shall shrink into 
darkness — never, never to strike his hoofs in the vale of im- 
mortality ! Then will an ocean of love, broad as the circuit of 
the spheres, roll down from the throne of God, and bear off the 
redeemed multitude to that delightful country, where sin, and 
pain and death, and sorrow, never had a name. 

2. The second observation which I make from the preceding 
discourse is, that if the church is a state designed by God, and 
calculated to prepare men for heaven, the maintenance of public 
worship must be of the highest importance. In the ordinary 
course of Divine Providence, we are not to expect that men will 
become virtuous and good, without the means of instruction 
and information. God appears in all things respecting this 
world, to operate by secondary causes. In all the means which 
he has established in the ministration of the gospel, there ap- 
pears to be a tendency to holiness and virtue. If this be not 
the case, why are the means appointed ? If there be not greater 
probability that those who hear the gospel will become good 
than there is that those who do not hear it will, why is it preach- 



DEDICATION SERMON. 95 

ed? If men expect to be saved by the gospel, they must attend 
its ministration. " For faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by 
the word of God." We must assemble for the worship of God, 
and inquire in his temple. If God point out the road to heaven, 
and we refuse to walk in it, can we without the greatest ab- 
surdity expect to arrive in that happy mansion ? As reasonably 
might we expect, that by descending into the earth we should 
light upon the sun, or become companions of the stars. 

Your exertions in this place for the establishment and support 
of pubhc worship, evince your sense of its importance. Permit 
me to congratulate you on the success with which your efforts 
have been crowned. The liberality of your institution does 
honor to human nature. Like heaven, you receive men of all 
denominations, without regard to any thing but their goodness. 
May no standard ever be lifted here to call forth the spirit of 
party, but may you live together in peace, forbearing and for- 
giving one another. Let all things be done with decency, pru- 
dence and moderation. May you all enjoy the blessings of sal- 
vation, and while worshipping your common Parent, enjoy his 
sensible presence, so that with unfeigned fervor of soul you may 
exclaim, " this is none other but the house of God, and this is 
the gate of heaven." I now commend you to him who is able 
to keep you, and lead you into all truth. Be perfect, be of good 
comfort, be of one mind, live in peace, and the God of peace 
shall be with you. 



I 



SERMON 

PREACHED IN BOSTON, 

AT THE 

ANNUAL CONVENTION 

OF THE 

WARREN ASSOCIATION, 

IN THE 

Rev. Dr. Stillman's meeting house, 
SEPTEMBER 12, A. D. 1797. 



13 




« 



i 



A SERMON. 



HOW SHALL WE ESCAPE IF WE NEGLECT SO GREAT SALVATION .'— 
Hebrews ii. 3. 

The persons for whose conversion, instruction and edification 
this epistle was written, were Hebrew^s, the posterity of Abra- 
ham, and the only church of God before the introduction of the 
gospel dispensation. — These Hebrews in the time of the Apostle 
Paul were distributed into three classes, all differing in their no- 
tions of the Chirstian doctrine and worship. The fii-st class 
consisted of those who had sincerely received and embraced the 
gospel. These were not disposed to adulterate it with a mix- 
ture of Judaism, nor to restrain their liberty by the cumbersome 
rites of Moses. They beheve that Jesus of Nazareth was the 
true Messiah, and that by his incarnation, obedience, death, 
resurrection, ascension to heaven, and intercession with God, he 
had completely fulfilled and abohshed the shadowy dispensa- 
tion ; had introduced himself as the only righteousness of God, 
and commenced a new and glorious era in the economy of 
man's salvation. 

The second class of Hebrews was composed of those who in- 
sisted on the necessity of Mosaic rites in conjunction with a 
profession of faith in Christ. These were of two sorts. The 
first were those who, not fully understanding the gospel doc- 
trine, continued the observance of their former institutions, with- 



100 CONVENTION SERMON. 

out seeking for righteousness by them. The second were those 
who urged their observance as indispensable for justification be- 
fore God. 

The third general class were those who persisted in their old 
church state, rejecting the gospel and Jesus of Nazareth. A 
just view of these several classes of Hebrews, together with 
their peculiar opinions, and attachments, is an indespensable 
prerequisite to the right understanding of this epistle. The 
great Apostle, anxious for the happiness and salvation of his 
brethren, contends earnestly and faithfully against their igno- 
rance, animosities and prejudice. He attempts to unite them 
all in the faith of the pure gospel of Christ. To effect this im- 
portant object, by instructing and establishing the doubtful, by 
confirming those who had embraced the gospel, and convincing 
those who had rejected it, he commences the first chapter, by 
instituting a comparison, between the dispensation of the law 
and that of the gospel. He points out the circumstances in 
which they agree and in which they differ. They agree in one 
great point. God is the author of both. They differ as to the 
manner, the time, and the persons in whom they were given. 
God in time past spake unto the fathers by the prophets. In 
these last days he hath spoken unto us by his Son. If the He- 
brews attended to the instructions of God because they were 
delivered by the prophets ; ought they not, on their own prin- 
ciples, much more to attend to the instructions of God delivered 
by his Son, who was the brightness of his glory and the express 
image of his person ? The Apostle, to give this argument the 
greatest force, occupies the remaining part of the first chapter 
in describing the exalted character of Christ. He is represented 
as being infinitely superior to angels, on account of whose min- 
istration under the law, the Hebrews gloried in that economy. 
Ought they not then much more to glory in the economy of 
man's salvation, where Christ himself is mediator, whom the 
angels themselves are commanded to worship ? " Therefore," 
says Paul, " we ought to give the more earnest heed to the 
things which we have heard, lest at any time we should let them 
slip." This inference he urges upon his brethren, by the con- 
sideration, that even under the law where the hght was dim, 



CONVENTION SERMON. 101 

where no higher beings spake than angels, every offence was 
strictly marked and punished. How great then mnst be their 
guilt, and how unavoidable their punishment, should they neg- 
lect the gospel delivered by the Lord himself? No wonder the 
Apostle exclaimed, " How shall we escape if we neglect so 
great salvation." 

In explaining these words, I shall 

I. First, Show why the gospel is styled salvation. 

II. Secondly, Why it is styled a great salvation. 

III. Thirdly, The unavoidable destruction of those who neg- 
lect this salvation. 

A few observations shall close the subject. 

1. Firsts I am to show why the gospel is styled salvation. 
Several reasons occur ; the more immediate of which is, the 
contrast made by the Apostle between the law and the gospel. 
The words of the law were stedfast and immovable, denouncing 
condemnation to the transgressor. The law therefore was the 
ministration of death, even to those Hebrews, who so tenaciously 
adhered to its observance. The gospel on the contrary was 
good news, the ministration of life, and its effect deliverance 
from sin and the curse of the law. On account therefore of the 
effect of the gospel in opposition to that of the law, the Apostle 
styles the gospel salvation. 

2. Another reason why the gospel is styled as in the text is, 
because it alone reveals salvation. The law, it is true, points 
out the attainment of salvation by perfect obedience to its pre- 
cepts. Paul says the language of it is. The man that doth these 
things shall live in them. He at the same time declares, that 
by the deeds of the law shall no flesh be justified. The law 
therefore, so far from revealing to man salvation in his present 
state, reveals his condemnation. Paul writing to the Galatians 
points out the state of men under the law, and the manner in 



102 CONVENTION SERMON. 

which they are affected by it. Before faith came we were kept 
under the law, shut up unto the faith that should afterwards be 
revealed ; wherefore the law was our school-master to bring us 
unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith. 

Many contend that the light of nature is adequate to all the 
purposes of human instruction and happiness. Of consequence 
they reject all supernatural revelation, whether in the form of 
law or gospel as totally unnecessary. On this give me leave to 
observe that if the light of nature were sufficient, we have no 
reason to believe that God would give any other, for he does 
nothing that is useless or unnecessary. On the contrary, if the 
light of nature were not sufficient, we have reason to believe, 
he would give more light. To ascertain whether the light of 
nature is sufficient, we must recur to fact and experience. The 
whole history of the human race testifies against the assertion, 
that the light of nature is sufficient to guide men to the true 
God and happiness. For there never has existed a nation des- 
titute of the revelation contained in the Bible, that were not 
idolaters, except some tribes who (if travellers may be credited) 
appear to have no notion of worshipping any thing. Where 
then are the effects, which ought to have been produced by this 
light, if it was ordained by God as a sufficient instructor ? Why 
has it not directed all eyes and all hearts to the great Jehovah ? 
Unassisted by revelation, men from the foundation of the world 
have been stupid idolaters. Though the earth has smiled in 
beauty under their feet, and the heavens have rolled in majesty 
over their heads, yet they have remained in '' the region and 
shadow of death." Some of the ancient heathen philosophers 
appear to have believed in the existence of a supreme God. 
Their opinions concerning him, however, were so various, con- 
tradictory, and frequently absurd, that we cannot affirm that 
they were acquainted with the true God. By the light of na- 
ture they could ascertain with no precision his moral perfec- 
tions, and of consequence must have remained in doubt respect- 
ing the nature of acceptable worship. Socrates the greatest in 
all heathen antiquity, confesses his ignorance when he says, " It 
is absolutely necessary that we wait with patience till such time 
as we can learn certainly how we ought to behave ourselves both 



CONVENTION SERMON. 103 

towards God and towards men." The light of nature leaves us 
in perfect uncertainty, whether God can or will pardon sin. 
This light therefore is deficient in the most essential and impor- 
tant point respecting sinful beings, for to them nothing can be 
so interesting as to know whether God will pardon sin and be- 
stow salvation. To the gospel therefore we are wholly indebted 
for our knowledge of those attributes of God and those determi- 
nations of his will, with which our happiness and eternal life are 
connected. This train of reasoning corresponds with the uni- 
form language of scripture. Paul declares that the gospel is the 
power of God and the wisdom of God, unto salvation. Rom. i.l6. 
In the gospel " the grace of God is manifested, that bringeth 
salvation." Tit. ii. 11. The gospel is good news, glad tidings, 
a declaration of pardon to the guilty immediately from God, 
known to him only, depending on his sovereign pleasure, infi- 
nitely above the thoughts of men and angels. The manifesta- 
tion of grace in the salvation of men was determined in the ev- 
erlasting council of God, " Who," says an apostle, " hath saved 
us and called us with an holy calling, not according to our 
works, but according to his own purpose and grace which was 
given us in Christ Jesus before the world began." Thus the gos- 
pel is with propriety styled salvation,because that alone reveals it. 
3. Another reason why the gospel is styled salvation is, be- 
cause the gospel applies salvation, and is efiectual to the deHv- 
erance of all those who believe. These assertions are manifest 
in the following things. 

1. In regeneration and sanctification. 

These are the first acts in which divine power energizes in 
the heart, dehvering it from the reigning and condemning 
power of sin. The word of God is Hke a hammer and fire to 
break the rock in pieces. The natural state of man is such, 
that a moral" change in his will and aflfections is essential to 
qualify him for the enjoyment of God and heaven. The scrip- 
tures uniformly represent the unregenerate as totally alienated 
from things spiritual and holy. Their great adversary bhnds them 
through the deceitfulness of sin, and, soUciting their aflfections 
by all the arts and allurements of temptation, involves them in 



104 CONVENTION SERMON. 

guilt and exposes them to ruin. Their carnal minds are ^ ^enmity 
against God." In such a state, and possessed of such a dispo- 
sition, is it possible that heaven should afford them happiness ? 
No. They must be reconciled to God and saved from sin. 
These are eflected by the word of divine truth applied by the 
Holy Spirit. Thus says the Apostle Peter, " Being born again, 
not of corruptible seed but of incorruptible, by the word of God 
which liveth and abideth forever." 1 Pet. i. 23. Hence it ap- 
pears that the word of God becomes a living principle in the 
hearts of behevers. The word is beautifully compared to seed 
which contains in itself a principle of life. When cast into the 
earth, nourished by the sun and rain, it expands, shoots up, in- 
creases, smiles in beauty, bears fruit, and rejoices the cultivator's 
heart. Thus the word of God does not return unto him void, 
but accomplishes that whereunto he sends it. Hence divine 
truth, considered as a living, abiding principle in the heart, is 
styled the '^ ingrafted word." Christ illustrated the same idea 
when he said, " Whosoever shall drink of the water that I shall 
give him shall never thirst, but the water that I shall give him 
shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life." 
Paul to the Corinthians said '' he had begotten them through 
the gospel." Sanctification is properly the continuance and 
increase of regeneration, and is effected by the same means. 
Thus says Christ, praying for his disciples, " Sanctify them 
through thy truth ; thy word is truth." Thus the gospel ap- 
plies salvation in regeneration and sanctification. 

2. In the next place, it applies it in justification. It is not 
only necessary that men should be sanctified before they can 
enjoy heaven, but that they should be exempted from condem- 
nation. As all have incurred the penalty of the law, it becomes 
an interesting inquiry, how the divine perfections will harmo- 
nize in the extension of pardon. God will never exert one of 
these to the infringement of another. If God has mercy, he 
at the same time has justice. This justice he has manifested 
in the law, and has expressed his determination to support it. 
It may then be asked. If God, instead of inflicting the threat- 
ened penalty, forgive the transgressor, will he not render his ha- 
tred of sin suspected ? Will he not appear to coincide with 



CONVENTION SERMON. 105 

the transgressor in contravening the authority of the law ? 
These consequences would result, were pardon exercised with- 
out respect to the law. God never can do any thing which will 
lower his attachment to his law, or diminish his hatred of sin in 
the eyes of his creatures. According to the gospel scheme, 
mercy does not interfere with justice; nor can it, since he who 
receives pardon receives it in such a way, that he entertains as 
strong a conviction of the divine displeasure against sin, as he 
would were he doomed to endure the full punishment of trans- 
gression. The gospel exhibits Christ in the character of an 
obedient and suffering Saviour. His obedience and sufferings 
were voluntary. Their language was. The law is holy, just and 
good. It ought to be obeyed. It ought to be supported as an 
unalterable rule of righteousness. Hence the mediatorial work 
of Christ, so far as it respected obedience and suffering, render- 
ed the exercise of mercy consistent with every end that could 
have been obtained by the rigid punishment of all transgres- 
sors. Hence an inspired Apostle says, " Christ is the end of 
the law for righteousness to every one that believeth." Why 
to every one that believeth ? Because he who beheves acknotvl- 
edges and realizes that he ought to suffer what Christ suffered, 
and to obey as Christ obeyed. Hence when pardon is experi- 
enced, the law is acknowledged to be holy, just, and good ; its 
authority is a fully established as it could have been by the exe- 
cution of its penalty, and obedient subjects are secured. Hence 
it appears, tliat in the pardon of sinners on account of Christ, 
every end of the most perfect moral government is answered. 
Hence God is just, though he justifies the ungodly. He is a 
just God and yet a, Saviour. On account of the perfect consist- 
ency between justice and grace in the salvation of men by Jesus 
Christ, his righteousness is said to be imputed unto them. That 
is, they are justified on account of his righteousness, with as 
much propriety as they would be if that righteousness were 
personally their own. All that the rectitude of the divine na- 
ture requires, is obtained and manifested by the pardon and jus- 
tification of sinners on account of Christ. Hence they are said 
to be " made the righteousness of God in him." Thus the 
righteousness of God without the law is manifested, and those 
14 



^- 



106 CONVENTION SERMON. 

to whom it is thus imputed are adjudged to eternal Ufe, and 
treated, as to the law, as if they had never sinned. What a 
glorious scheme of salvation is this, which condemns sin, saves 
the sinner, supports the divine law, and glorifies the divine 
character ! The penitent sinner, beholdmg the great deep of 
God's wisdom and goodness breaking open in Christ, with ec- 
stacy exclaims, " O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom 
and knowledge of God 1" 

3. The gospel also applies salvation in deliverance from evil 
and in the bestowment of eternal happiness. 

Thus the gospel scheme appears complete, securing every 
thing that can satisfy the desires of immortal spirits. It not only 
begins but it finishes salvation. It pai'dons, regenerates, sanc- 
tifies, justifies, and bestows eternal life. This all true believers 
will joyfully realize at the great day of judgment, when the di- 
vine Master shall address them, '^ Come, ye blessed of my 
Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the founda- 
tion of the world." 

Thus it appears that the gospel is with propriety styled salva- 
tion, whether we consider it in opposition to the law, or as re- 
veahng and applymg salvation. 

II. I now proceed, secondly. To show why the gospel is 
styled a great salvation. Among the various reasons which 
might be adduced to illustrate this part of the subject, I shall 
mention the following only. 

1. This salvation will appear great if we consider the evil 
from which it delivers and the good which it bestows. All evil 
is comprised in sin, its consequences, and its punishment. 
Sin is a great evil with respect to its immediate effects upon 
the soul. It corrupts the aflTections, alienates them from God, 
and renders them averse to things spiritual and divine. In sin ori- 
ginate all those vile passions which degrade and dishonor human 
nature. In the same source arise, blindness of mind, selfishness, 
idolatry, superstition and error. These deform the noble work- 
manship of God, and rob it of all its primeval glory. If to be 
formed in the image of God ; if to possess rectitude and holi- 
ness ; if freely to converse with Heaven ; if to be exempt from 



CONVENTION SERMON. 107 

toil, disappointment, sorrow, pain and death ; if these were 
blessings ; surely since sin despoils us of the whole, it must be 
an evil exceedingly great and alarming. Must not that then be 
a great salvation which disenthralls us from slavery, restores us 
to divine favor, and blesses us with that peace which passeth all 
understanding ? The gospel " proclaims liberty to the captives, 
and the opening of the prison to them who are bound." Christ 
was " called Jesus, because he should save his people from their 
sins." He begins the reign of his grace in their hearts on earth, 
and will complete it in heaven. The salvation of the gospel is 
not only great as it destroys the dominion of sin in the heart, but 
as it delivers from the punishment of sin. This punishment is the 
curse of the law, which undoubtedly comprises endless misery. 
From this all those who believe will be saved. For '' Christ 
was made under the kw, that he might redeem them from its 
curse." He is to them '' the end of the law for righteousness." 
" There is no condemnation to them who are in Christ Jesus." 
Will they not then consider that as a great salvation which de- 
livers them from condemnation, from endless, inexpressible wo ? 
God forbid that they should ever cease to rejoice in it, and to 
adore the exceeding riches of divine grace ! But the salvation 
of the gospel does not leave its subjects in a state of mere ex- 
emption from misery ; it bestows on them positive endless hap- 
piness. If that can be a great salvation which restores man from 
the greatest €vil, and bestows on him the greatest good ; which 
blesses him with the enjoyment of God and Christ, with the 
society of all holy beings, and secures all these to him through 
the immeasurable range of eternity, the gospel must be a great 
salvation. 

2. This salvation will appear great if we consider the means 
by which it is accomplished. These are the following. 

1 . The incarnation of Christ. This was a wonderful instance 
of divine wisdom and love. This was the great mystery into 
which the angels desired to look. The Word was made flesh 
and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth. Though he was 
rich, yet for our sakes he became poor, that we through his pov- 
erty might be made rich. But why was it necessary that the 
eternal Son of God should assume our nature to efiect our sal- 



108 CONVENTION SERMON. 

vation ? Why was not an angel commissioned on this business ? 
Because no finite being possessed sufficient dignity, or comprised 
in its nature a sufficient quantity of existence, to render that 
obedience and endure that suffering which were necessary to 
give such a clear manifestation of God's attachment to his law, 
and of his aversion to sin, as would render the exercise of mercy 
consistent. As the human nature had deviated from the divine 
law, it was proper and fit, that that nature should be brought 
back into the person of the Saviour to a coincidence with the 
law. In this way the Saviour would give a most convincing 
evidence of the goodness of the law, and in consequence of his 
infinite dignity would establish the law forever, as a standard of 
obedience. Besides, the assumption of the human nature, into 
union with the divine, was a most unequivocal pledge of God's 
love and grace ; and has left all sinners without excuse who do 
not obey the gospel. God in the human nature assumed, has 
familiarized himself to his creatures ; and encouraged them to 
approach him. God was in Christ reconcihng the world unto 
himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them. ^' Forasmuch 
as the children were partakers of flesh and blood, he likewise 
also himself took part of the same." " He took not on him the 
nature of angels, but the seed of Abraham." 

2. In the obedience of Christ. Christ not only assumed the 
human nature, but he assumed it under the law. This it was 
necessary he should do in order to effect man's redemption. 
Because man was not only under the condemning but obligatory 
power of the law. This Christ came not to destroy but to ful- 
fil. But how could it be fulfilled unless the obedience it re- 
quired were rendered ? Christ, -' Though he were a son, yet 
learned he obedience." It is contended by some that Christ 
was not made under the moral law, but under the law of re- 
demption. This law of redemption is explained to mean the 
condition of the mediatory work assigned by the Father. If so, 
this law of redemption is the same as the covenant of grace, 
which included Christ's obedience to the moral law. Paul writ- 
ing to the Galatians says, " God sent forth his Son, made of a 
woman, made under the law, to redeem them that were under 
the law." And also, ^'Christ hath redeemed us from the curse 



CONVENTION SERMON. 109 

of the law, being made a curse for us." We are under the 
curse of no law, except that of the moral law, and yet the scrip- 
tures assure us, that Christ was made under this, that he might 
redeem us from it. When we consider the great difficulties, 
dangers and temptations to be encountered by the Saviour in 
the course of his humiliation and obedience, and when we con- 
sider that in all he gloriously triumphed ; we are compelled to 
acknowledge, that the salvation which he effected was exceed- 
ingly great. 

3. Another mean by which this salvation was accomplished 
was the sufferings of Christ. In his obedience he had not en- 
tered on the most arduous part of the work assigned him by his 
Father, for the accomplishment of man's salvation. It was not 
only necessary that he should become human, that he should 
obey the law, but that he should endure its penalty. Without 
this, the law could not be fulfilled nor its curse removed, so as 
to render the transgressor's deliverance possible. *' It was es- 
sential to a consistent exercise of pardon, that in some visible 
expression God's real disposition towards sinners should be man- 
ifested as clearly, fully and unequivocally, as it would be in the 
execution of the penalty of the law on the transgressor. This 
disposition, when brought into view in some sensible manifesta- 
tion, vindicates God's character from all suspicion, and fully 
discovers his attachment to the rights of his government, the 
dignity of his justice and the truth of his law." Hence it is said 
in the scriptures, " It became Him for whom are all things and 
by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto glory, to 
make the Captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings." 
These sufferings were so exceedingly dreadful, that the Saviour 
in the view of them cried out, " If it be possible, let this cup 
pass from me !" 

4. But in suffering and dying, Jesus had not completed this 
great salvation, it was necessary that he should rise from the 
dead. In doing this he obtained a complete victory over death 
and the grave. " God raised him up, having loosed the pains 
of death." Christ by his resurrection completed the great plan 
of redemption, ^' abolished death, and brought hfe and immor- 
tality to light." From this consideration arises our only hope 



110 CONVENTION SERMON. 

of pardon and acceptance with God : for, says Paul, *' If Christ 
be not raised, your faith is vain ; ye are yet in your sins." Thus 
it appears, from the consideration that God sent his beloved Son 
into the world to be invested with our nature, to be made under 
the law, that he might obey, suffer and die, and rise and ascend 
into heaven, that the salvation he effected must have been great 
beyond all conception. 

5. This salvation appears great from the consideration that it 
contains the highest display of divine wisdom and goodness. 

When man has sinned, there appeared a repugnancy between 
his salvation and the divine perfections. The holiness, justice, 
truth and goodness of God were all engaged for the punishment 
of transgression. How shall these be preserved and manifested, 
if the transgression be pardoned ? Does it appear consistent, that 
God should form a rational being, give him a law for the regu- 
lation of his conduct, annex a penalty to that law, threaten the 
execution of its penalty in case of transgression ; and when 
transgression is committed, pardon it, restore the transgressor to 
favor, and bestow on him eternal life ? Where is the harmony 
of the divine conduct ? Can angels discover it ? Can they devise 
a way for man's deliverance ? Will they not at once perceive 
that it is of infinitely greater importance to preserve the glory 
of the divine nature, than to save sinners ? They may weep for 
the fate of man, but they cannot retrieve it. Bending from 
their bright abodes they exclaim, " O man ! how art thou fallen ! 
Once innocent, now guilty ; once the lord of creation, now the 
prisoner of death ; farewell. Thy salvation ceases forever !" 
But God infinite in wisdom, devised a scheme for the salvation 
of apostate creatures, which, instead of obscuring, displays the 
divine glory. In this scheme there is, according to the scrip- 
tures, the highest display of divine wisdom. It is emphatically 
styled *' the wisdom of God." " In Christ, who is the life and 
soul of the gospel, are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and 
knowledge." This salvation will appear conspicuously great, 
if we reflect that it was designed in eternity by God himself as 
the greatest of all his works ; a work to which all others are but 
subordinate parts, and for the completion of which they were 
all made, arranged and directed. Thus this salvation appears 



CONVENTION SERMON. Ill 

great, if we consider the evil from which it delivers ; the good 
which it bestows ; the means by which it is accomplished ; or 
the display which it contains of divine wisdom and goodness. 

III. I now proceed to show the unavoidable destruction of 
those who neglect this salvation. This the apostle more imme- 
diately infers from the greatness of the salvation neglected. 
" How shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation ?" To 
illustrate the proposition now before us, let us attend to the fol- 
lowing things. 

1. The destruction or endless punishment of those who neg- 
lect the salvation of the gospel, will be unavoidable, because it 
will be just and reasonable. 

The scriptures represent men to be in a state of alienation 
from God. They desire not the knowledge of his ways, nor 
do they wish to submit to his government. If they continue in 
this state, their happiness is utterly impossible. They only are 
the losers, by opposing God. He is all-sufficient, independent, 
and perfectly happy without them. He is under no obligation 
to effect their salvation, nor have they any reason to complain 
should he leave them to " reap the fruit of their doings." But 
God, so far from doing this, makes to them overtures of salva- 
tion. He proposes to them a treaty of peace and reconciliation. 
''God was in Christ, reconcihng the world unto himself, not 
imputing their trespasses unto them ; and hath committed unto 
us the word of reconcihation." Now then we are ambassadors 
for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us ; we pray you, 
in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God." Thus the self-mov- 
ing love of the infinite Jehovah proposes to sinners a scheme for 
their reconciliation and happiness. " God so loved the world, 
that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever belie veth in 
him should not perish, but have everlasting life." If sinners 
then slight, oppose, and despise the love of God, will not their 
destruction be reasonable and just ? May it not with propriety 
be said to them, " Behold, ye despisers, and wonder and perish?" 
Shall the eternal Son of God lay aside the glory which he had 
before the world was ? Shall he descend to our dark, sinful, re- 
bellious world ? Shall he descend so low as to assume our na- 
ture ? Shall he put himself under the law by which we were 



112 CONVENTION SERMON. 

condemned ? Shall he become a man of sorrows and acquainted 
with grief ? Shall he be persecuted and despised ? Shall he be 
lifted from the earth, agonize and die upon the cross ? Shall he, 
in this awful situation, pray for his enemies ? Shall he be buried ? 
Shall he rise from the dead and ascend into heaven, pleading 
for sinners by his wounded hands and pierced side ? In addition 
to all these, shall he invite sinners by the ministers of his word ? 
Shall he admonish them by his Spirit and providence ? Shall 
the Son of God do all these things for them ? And can they, if 
they neglect him, expect to escape ? How perfectly just will be 
their destruction ! 

2. Their destruction will be unavoidable, because they reject 
the only thing that can save them. It has been shown in the 
first part of this discourse, that men cannot obtain salvation by 
the law. It has also been shown that the light of nature is ut- 
terly insufficient for this purpose. Universal experience evinces, 
that no merely human exertions can destroy the reigning power 
of sin. God in his infinite mercy has sent his only Son to re- 
deem and save his creature man. In this God has displayed the 
triumphs of his wisdom. ^' For after that, in the wisdom of 
God, the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by 
the foolishness of preaching, to save them that believe." The 
preaching of the cross is the great mean ordained by Heaven, 
for the salvation of mortals. " There is none other name than 
that of Jesus, given under heaven among men, whereby we must 
be saved." " He is the way, the truth and the life." '' No 
man can come unto the Father but by him." ^' He is the only 
Mediator between God and men." Without his interposition, 
mercy would have rested eternally in the bosom of God, with 
respect to men, as well as with respect to apostate angels. For 
these, no remedy was provided, no fountain of grace was open- 
ed. " For Christ took not on him the nature of angels, but the 
seed of Abraham." If then sinners will neglect this distin- 
guishing goodness of God ; if they will refuse to comply with 
the overtures of his grace in Christ, where only they are to be 
found, how can they escape ? Their destruction follows as a 
necessary consequence of their own conduct. They not only 
sin against the law, but against the gospel. Their guilt is ag- 



CONVENTION SERMON. 113 

gravated by a consideration of the superabounding grace con- 
tained in the gospel which they neglect. " There remaineth 
no more sacrifice for their sins, but a certain fearful looking for 
of judgment and fiery indignation which shall devour the ad- 
versaries." " He that despised Moses' law, died without mor- 
cy. Of how much sorer punishment, suppose ye, shall he be 
thought worthy, who hath trodden under foot the Son of God ?" 
3. The destruction of those who neglect the gospel will be 
unavoidable, because God hath declared it. Had the scriptures 
given us no farther information concerning the destruction of 
those who neglect the gospel, than that it would be just and 
right, we could not with absolute certainty infer that it would 
take place. Because many things concerning sinners may be 
right and just, which God will not perform. It is right and 
just that all men without exception, as to their own personal 
demerit, should be destroyed, or should endure the penalty of 
the law ; but this will not be the case ; for the scripture de- 
clares, " He that beUeveth shall be saved," It does not how- 
ever follow, that there is any disregard to justice in saving those 
who beheve. Neither on the other hand is there any disregard 
to mercy in destroying those who disbelieve. Their destruction 
could not with absolute certainty be inferred from his justice. 
But in an affair of such vast importance, God has not left us in 
uncertainty, but has given us the most clear and unequivocal 
information. " He that belie veth not on the Son shall not see 
life, but the wrath of God abideth on him." '' These shall go 
away into everlasting punishment." " Who shall be punished 
with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord and 
from the glory of his power." Passages to the same import, 
are too numerous to be here mentioned. Were there none but 
these, there would be ample reason for the solicitous and im- 
portant inquiry in the text — " How shall we escape if we neg- 
lect so great salvation ?" 

Having explained the several things [proposed, I shall close 
the subject by observing : 

1. First, Since the gospel is such, that it alone reveals and 
applies salvation, and is effectual to our deliverance from all evil 
15 



114 CONVENTION SERMON. 

and bestows all good ; we ought to admire the infinite grace of 
Jehovah. This grace brings salvation which delivers us from 
eternal ruin. In this salvation are the riches of God's grace, 
the treasures of his wisdom, and the greatness of his power. If 
we have been brought by the Holy Spirit to know and enjoy 
this salvation, let us continue to rejoice in it, purifying ourselves 
from all iniquity, and devoting ourselves to Him who died for 
us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood. Let us re- 
member that he ever liveth to make intercession for us ; that he 
will soon appear the second time without sin unto salvation. 
Then the vicissitudes of time will cease to disturb us ; the great 
adversary of our souls will be bound forever ; all tears shall be 
wiped from every eye, we shall be wholly delivered from the 
bondage of corruption, be received into glory, forever to solace 
ourselves in the enjoyment of GOD. 

2. Secondly, Since those who neglect the gospel neglect the 
greatest good and incur the greatest evil, men ought above all 
things to be solicitous about their salvation. To neglect the 
gospel, is to neglect God himself; to abuse his mercy, and af- 
front his justice. In order to avoid the imputation of neglect- 
ing the gospel, it is not enough, that you read the scriptures, 
that you attend the preached word, and perform a regular course 
of religious duties ; you must sincerely embrace and love the 
Lord Jesus. You must receive him as a Prophet to instruct 
you, as a Priest to expiate your guilt, and as a King to govern 
you. If you neglect the gospel, you neglect the only thing that 
can save you. If you neglect Jesus, you neglect him who has 
the power of death and hfe. He will not always set on the 
mediatorial throne ; he will not always invite you by his mercy 
and admonish you by his Spirit. If you neglect him, if you re- 
main impenitent, he will execute upon you the righteous indig- 
nation of Jehovah. How dreadful must be your situation! 
How will you escape, when the Lord Jesus shall be revealed 
from heaven, in flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that 
know not God and obey not the gospel ? That Jesus, whom 
you now despise, will then be honored ; that Jesus, who was 
once crowned with thorns, will then be crowned with glory ; 
that Jesus, who was once dressed in a robe of derision, will then 



CONVENTION SERMON. 115 

be invested with all the splendors of Omnipotence. He who 
was arraigned at the bar of Pilate, will then be exalted on the 
throne of heaven. How then can you neglect him, and expect 
to escape with impunity ? Despise not the overtures of his 
mercy, neglect not his great salvation, but embrace it, that he 
who will be your final Judge may be your friend, and receive 
you into his everlasting kingdom. May God grant that this may 
be the happy lot of us all, through JESUS our LORD. Amen, 



A 

SERMON 

PREACHED IN THE 
BAPTIST MEETING-HOUSE IN PROVIDENCE, 

BEFORE THI 

FEMALE CHARITABLE SOCIETY, 

SEPTEMBER 21, 1802. 




A SERMON. 



THOUGH I HAVE ALL FAITH, SO THAT I COULD REMOVE MOUNTAINS/"^ 
AND HAVE NOT CHARITY, I AM NOTHING.— 1 Corikthian», xiii. 2. .^ 

Charity is an exalted virtue. As it implies love to God, and 
man, it connects us with heaven and earth, and prepares us for 
both. Involving the most laudable and vigorous propensity of 
our nature, it is commensurate with our existence. Charity in 
its full extent comprises all true religion. So far as it respects 
active beneficence to our fellow creatures,it will cease with time ; 
so far as it respects holy affection to our creator, it will glow 
with a flame which eternal ages cannot extinguish. Many of the 
christian gifts and graces are limited to the present world. No 
mansions are allotted them in heaven, because, there they can 
have no exercise, no use, and no object. ^'Charity never faileth ; 
but whether there be prophecies they shall fail ; whether there 
be tongues, they shall cease ; whether there be knowledge, it 
shall vanish away." " Now abideth faith, hope, charity ; these 
three, but the greatest of these is charity." Faith and hope, 
live and grow by the absence and remoteness of their objects. 
These virtues of course must be absorbed and lost in enjoyment. 
Charity is greater. Derived from God and fixed upon him ; 



120 SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE 

having diffused its blessings on earth, it will return to him, and 
increase forever. This great virtue, as it is displayed in rehev- 
ing the distressed, is an extension of divine love. It assimilates 
the possessor to God himself, w^ho bestows good because he de - 
lights in mercy. Charity or love exalts the soul above the ma- 
levolent, angry passions, and tends to unite the whole race of 
man in one happy fraternity. It disarms hatred of its poison 
and revenge of its dagger. Genuine charity does not extend 
rehef to the inoffensive only. No, with a godlike superiority it 
triumphs over malignity itself ; blesses those who curse,does good 
to'those who hate, and prays for those who abuse and persecute. 
Charity has the happiness of man for its object, and the glory of 
God for its end. It aspires after immortahty, not in the naked 
solitudes of metaphysic faith, nor in the cloistered retirement of 
monkish indolence ; but in the practice of benevolence ; in dry- 
ing up the tears, and healing the wounds of afflicted, unfortu- 
nate, perishing humanity. " Shew me," said an inspired apos- 
tle, " thy faith without thy works, and I will show thee my faith 
by my works." These are the true, the only infallible index of 
the heart. — These alone will stand the trial in that tremendous 
hour when the hearts of all shall be laid open to view, and the 
destiny of all shall be irrevocably fixed by the impartial judge 
of the universe. Virtues which are always boasting of their own 
importance, but never appear ; modes oi faith which no inge- 
nuity can reduce to practice ; mysteries, which no intellect can 
develope ; are of no consequence in comparison of glowing, ac- 
tive virtue. Could we take up the Alps in one hand and the 
Andes in the other, and plunge them into the ocean ; could we 
with Bacon look through and comprehend all science ; or with 
Newton unveil the laws and mechanism of the universe ; and 
still be destitute of charity, of benevolent affection ; we might 
be objects of terror and of admiration, but could not be the sub- 
jects of those attractive qualites which crown human nature with 
its highest glory. From misguided ambition, from obstinate 
bigotry, or fanatical superstition, we might give our bodies to be 
burned, expecting, like the Phoenix, to rise into hfe from our 
own ruin ; but unless we have good works to present us to our 
heavenly father, we shall never receive the transporting bene- 



PROVIDENCE FEMALE CHARITABLE SOCIETY. 121 

diction, " well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into 
the joy of thy Lord." From viewing the exalted rank and the 
importance of charity, we may with propriety adopt the lan- 
guage of our text ; — " Though I have all faith, so that I could 
remove mountains and have no charity, I am nothing." 

The practice of charity as a duty, is urged upon us by the 
consideration, that it weakens the principle of evil and slength- 
ens the principle of virtue. 

Selfishness is the source of all moral evil. Mankind consid- 
ered collectively constitute an important system in the universe 
of being. They are so connected with each other, by 
mutual dependence, and the necessity of mutual aid, that 
the good of each individual is essentially involved in the 
good of the whole. Of course the highest common interest 
demands the highest and chief regard of each individual. It 
cannot be conceived in what sin or moral evil consists, unless it is 
in that which contravenes this highest common interest ; in the 
preference of individual to public good and happiness. If each 
individual pursues exclusively his own welfare ; if he invariably 
make this his highest object, he breaks asunder the bond of 
public union ; and his conduct tends directly to introduce dis- 
order and misery. His love of himself fills him with ambition, 
avarice and cruelty. His heart Itecomes a stranger to compas- 
sion. His ear is closed against the cry of distress. Increase of 
his wealth produces an increase of oppression. With him, jus- 
tice, mercy and humanity are empty names. Fearful of loss and 
eager of gain, he indulges a restless suspicion, and spurs himself 
on with unrelenting perseverance. He loads the victims of his 
selfishness with heavier chains, and makes the lash resound on 
his slave, with a louder noise. The love of himself finally gains 
a complete ascendency, antl he is poor in the midst of wealth. 
Immoderate self-love is the source of all the wickednesses and 
vices of mankind. Hence we see the reason why avarice, 
pride, anger, and revenge are censured as enormous evils, and 
threatened with the heaviest punishments. Hence also, we may 
see the true reason why we are required to love our neighbor as 
ourselves ; to exercise the same kind of concern for his welfare 
16 



122 SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE 

as for our own. Did all comply with these things, society 
would assume an appearance, new and beautiful ; and each in- 
dividual would be safe and happy in the safety and happiness of 
all. It must surely then be our duty to exert ourselves in be- 
neficence and kindness. The principle of self-preservation is so 
powerful, that we allow it to degenerate into immoderate self- 
afFection. Nothing so effectually prevents this as attention to 
objects of distress, and an indulgence of those dispositions and 
actions which contribute to their relief. We are so constituted 
as to be susceptible of moral, intellectual and corporeal habits. 
These, experience evinces, are all strengthened by a repetition 
of those acts which produce them. The practice of charity, 
therefore, as it allows others a share in our affections as well as 
ourselves, destroys self-love ; and of course weakens the princi- 
ple of evil. From the same consideration it appears that the 
practice of charity strengthens the principle of virtue. He who 
is governed by this, steadily aims at the greatest good, with a 
decided preference of those means by which it is promoted. He 
aims at human happiness, by the relief of human wretchedness ; 
and finds his reward in the strength of his own virtue, and in 
the applause of his own conscience. 

As an additional incentive to the practice of charity, God has 
annexed to it a sensible degrefe of pleasure. This he has done 
to allure us to our duty, by applying to the strongest principle 
of our nature, love of happiness. He has not left us to toil and 
labor, wholly from an expectation of some distant, future good, 
but has annexed a proper proportion of enjoyment to our present 
exertions. It is a peculiar and distinguishing property of virtu- 
ous exercises, that the pleasures they produce, never terminate 
in satiety or disgust. On the contrary, these pleasures become 
more intense, more exquisite by indulgence, and instead of de- 
bilitating, invigorate the capacity of enjoyment. God has so 
constituted and situated man, that it is absolutely out of his 
power to do good without being paid for it. The practice of be- 
neficence, is his most sublime happiness, and his highest inter- 
est. Virtue always brings a great reward with her, and points 
to a greater. Let experience speak. Is there no luxury in do- 



PROVIDENCE FEMALE CHARITABLE SOCIETY. 123 

ing good ? Is there no transport in relieving the indigent and 
distressed ? Do no thrills of pleasure vibrate through the heart 
in wiping the tear from orphan wretchedness ? In the glow of 
compassion for the unfortunate, in the bestowment of bounty 
for the happiness of God's creatures, does not the light of heav- 
en break in upon the mind, and the voice of a thousand angels 
call us up to that blessed mansion ? 

Passing by present enjoyment as a motive to the practice of 
charity, we may exhibit another from our situation. We are all 
connected by desires, distresses and necessities. All are more 
or less dependent, from the sceptre of power, to rags of beggary. 
And though it may mortify his pride, it is true, " The fur that 
warms a monarch warmed a bear." Neither the fortification of 
power ; nor the splendor of wealth ; neither the valor of the 
hero, nor the wisdom of the sage, can always guard against 
misfortune. Misery that needs relief, creeps in at a thousand 
avenues. When the aged building shakes in the tempest, how 
welcome is the arm of strength ! Disease and death level all 
human grandeur in the dust. Our situation is such, that it 
seems designed by Deity, to allow full scope for the exercise of 
beneficence. We are surrounded with objects of distress, and 
are constantly liable to become such ourselves. God has seen 
fit, to permit much evil and much misery. It is undoubtedly 
better that this should be the case, than that such beings as men 
should not exist. Had we formed a world for ourselves, we 
should doubtless have excluded from it all suffering and sorrow. 
We should have banished the triumph of the tomb and the ter- 
ror of death. We should have spread under our feet a carpet 
of flowers, and stretched over our heads a sky forever brighten- 
ing with a vernal sun. But God who is infinite in wisdom has 
formed for us a world in which we are liable to numberless evils, 
and has appealed to the sense of our wants to enforce our duty. 
The great rule of conduct enjoined upon us by Christianity, is 
that we should do unto others, as we w^ould have them do unto 
us, were circumstances exchanged. This rule results from our 
dependence and accords with the fitness of things. As it is an 
appeal to our senses and our judgment, we can neither mistake 
its meaning nor its application. If we behold others in distress 



124 SERMON PEE ACHED BEFORE THE 

we have only to imagine their situation our own. Our feelings 
will then speak the language of truth. Selfishness is apt offi- 
ciously to intrude and persuade us that our charity will never be 
repaid, that we must take care of ourselves, and that generosity 
to the poor is needless profusion. In such a case we should 
remember, that we are in the hand of God ; that all we possess 
is from him ; that he arranges and controls every thing con- 
cerning us, and that under his all-comprehending providence, 
a breath of wind, a wave of the ocean, a spark of fire, or the 
falling of a tile, may ruin all our enjoyments, and rob us of all 
our possessions. No man ever lost, by doing good. No man 
was ever made a beggar for discharging his duty in obedience 
to the will of God. 

Another motive urging upon us the practice of charity as our 
duty, arises from the principle of sympathy. From the consti- 
tution of our nature we can deduce the will of our maker, and 
our own obligations. For surely a being of infinite wisdom 
never acts in vain ; he never bestows on his creatures powers 
and propensities, which are not designed for some valuable end. 
From surveying these, from observing their tendency, and the 
objects to v\ hich they are adapted, we infer the design of their 
author. Whatever feelings appear to be universal and perma- 
nent in our nature, were undoubtedly bestowed for the increase 
of human happiness; and ought, under the direction of reason 
and the precepts of religion, to be encouraged and indulged for 
this important purpose. Our internal constitution is wonderful- 
ly adapted to our external condition. Objects are incessantly 
crowding upon our senses, and rousing into exercise our propen- 
sities according to the laws of our nature. On these alone, can 
we be inspired with a sense of duty, and impressed with the 
awful sanctions of religion. As to what concerns us in our pre- 
sent state God does not operate above us and beyond our reach : 
He doeg not require us to act from incomprehensible motives : 
He has not hung up our duty between heaven and earth, but 
has wrought it into our natures. Though the divine glory is the 
noblest and most exalted end of human action, yet it may be 
doubted, whether in most cases this can be the immediate mo- 
tive to action : for our faculties are so circumscribed, that we 



PROVIDENCE FEMALE CHARITABLE SOCIETY. 125 

are soon lost in the contemplation of infinite perfection, and 
involved in uncertainty as to the means which will most effectu- 
ally display it. Action may be necessary in many cases, where 
reason cannot have time to operate, and if it could, would never 
be able to determine. God has therefore wisely implanted 
within us certain propensities to remind us of our duty ; and 
applies to these by the events of his Providence and the declara- 
tions of his word. Why does a generous, magnanimous, dis- 
interested action inspire us with pleasure, command our applause, 
and excite our emulation ? Why does the prospect of affliction, 
pain and distress, render us uneasy, and fill us with sympathy 
and compassion ? Are not these things thus ordained to teach 
us our obligations, and to rouse us to those actions which will 
diminish human calamity and increase human happiness ? The 
principle of sympathy interests us in the sufferings and enjoy- 
ments of all animals, especially of those of our own species. 
The impulse of this principle, is the main-spring of every eflfort 
to relieve distress and misery. As an additional incitement to 
benevolence, God has annexed to sympathy pleasure and pain ; 
pleasure, where you can afford rehef, and pain where you can- 
not. There has not been a charitable institution, in any period 
of time, on any part of the globe which has not owed its origin, 
progress, and continuance to sympathy. This principle ranks 
among the highest ornaments of our nature. Its improvement 
is of so much importance, that probably in every instance, where 
we are sure there is want or misery, we ought to bestow charity, 
and leave the event to divine providence. We seem to be, in- 
stinctively, so impressed with the idea, that a disposition to 
assist the indigent and unfortunate is a part of our nature, that 
we look with horror on him who has no compassion, and con- 
sider him as an exotic, anomalous production. If we will 
listen to the voice of nature, we must be impelled to the exercise 
of charity whenever we behold poverty, want, affliction, distress 
and pain. 

Another motive to the exercise of chaiity is the express in- 
junction of God himselfj and the reward he has promised to 
those who obey. 



126 SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE 



Knowing our disposition to selfishness in our present fallen 
state, and our propensity to become insensible to the cries of 
misery, he has, with a view to keep alive and invigorate the 
original principles of our nature, addressed us in the authori- 
tative voice of revelation. He has left virtue in no quarter un- 
supported. He has given us Hne upon line, and precept on 
precept. He has addressed man in his internal constitution ; 
in his external condition ; and through his reason and senses. 
" If thy brother be waxen poor, then thou shalt relieve him that 
he may live." " Thou shalt not harden thine heart, nor shut 
thine hand against thy poor brother — the poor shall never cease 
out of the land, therefore I command thee." Such is the lan- 
guage of inspiration. God has promised his blessing to those 
who exercise charity in relieving distress. " The liberal soul 
shall be made fat ;" — " he that hath mercy on the poor, happy 
is he ;" — " he that hath a bountiful eye, blessed is he." ^' If 
thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, and satisfy the afflicted 
soul, then shall thy light rise in obscurity." Temporal prosper- 
ity will undoubtedly attend those who obey the commands of 
God, in the liberal distribution of their property, for the assist- 
ance of his creatures. The rewards of time however are small 
in comparison with those of eternity. Deeds of charity and 
kindness will be exhibited at the day of judgment, as titles to 
immortal glory. The Saviour and Judge will then address the 
righteous. " Come ye blessed of my father, inherit the king- 
dom prepared for you from the foundation of the world ; for I 
was an hungered and ye gave me meat ; I was thirsty and ye 
gave me drink ; I was a stranger and ye took me i.i ; naked and 
ye cloth sd me ; I was sick and ye visited me ; I was in prison 
and ye came unto me." 

The duty of charity, or benevolence, is urged upon us by the 
example of our Saviour. His disinterested affection, has added 
authority to obligation and loveliness to virtue. Such is the 
consent in moral association, that an example of consummate 
goodness, pervades, assimilates and links together the universe 
of intelligent beings. All feel the force and revere the majesty 
of exemplary active virtue. The Saviour, though he was rich, 



i 



PROVIDENCE FEMALE CHARITABLE SOCIETY. 127 

yet for our sakes became poor, that we through his poverty 
might be made rich. Though we were enemies ; and by trans- 
gression had torn asunder the obhgations of gratitude and love, 
yet so ardent was his affection, that he died for our salvation. 
He was a perfect character. His love beamed from the height 
of heaven, and brought light and hfe and glory to the sons of 
woe. He disrobed himself of the splendors of Deity, quitted the 
mansions of bliss, denied himself that unutterable fehcity which 
he enjoyed with his father, veiled himself in humanity, assumed 
the sorrows and infirmities of an inimical and ruined world. In 
the form of a servant, despised and rejected of men, he went 
about doing good, instructing the ignorant, relieving the dis- 
tressed, pardoning the penitent, blessing his enemies, and ally- 
ing himself by the strongest ties to the forlorn, disconsolate sons 
and daughters of woe. In him was no oppressive spirit, no un- 
feeling heart. His tears dropped on the sins of men, and blotted 
them out forever. Angels bending from their bright abodes be- 
held their lord in misery, and, arrested by the display of his com- 
passion, melted into sympathetic virtue. His love bound death 
in chains, and strewed the tomb with flowers. He gave his life 
for the miserable ; and when he bowled his head on Calvary, 
rose into the splendors of immortal life, and bade them follow. 
Surely the perfect example of the Son of God, ought to arrest 
our attention and engage all our powers in the cause of benevo- 
lence. 

It appears from the preceding discourse that charity ranks 
among the most exalted virtues ; that it adds lustre and dignity 
to human character. The practice, therefore, of charity involves 
at once our interest, our duty and our happiness. These are 
motives too powerful to be resisted. They apply to the strong- 
est propensities of our nature, and must produce active benefi- 
cence, in every one, whose humanity has not been sacrificed at 
the shrine of avarice. Hard indeed is that heart which cannot 
feel for another's woe ! On this occasion, the children of ad- 
versity and want solicit your charity. The sigh of the discon- 
solate widow, and the faltering voice of age, reach your ears. 
Orphan infancy, dropping tears, stretches forth its little hands to 



128 SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE 

receive your bounty. Humanity pleads her own cause, and 
must be heard. We are not convened to celebrate the subver- 
sion of tyrants, nor the triumphs of liberty. These agitate the 
soul with fear, with terror and enthusiastic triumph. They pre- 
sent to our imagination the confused noise of battle, fields 
bathed in blood, heaps of slain, the shouts of the victors, and 
the groans of the dying. From these we retire. We delight 
ourselves in exercising the humane, benevolent feelings. Our 
hearts are attracted by a society, designed to relieve misery and 
increase happiness ; a society originating in benevolence, em- 
bracing all that is amiable in disposition, all that is ornamental 
and attractive in character. Generosity, that impressive and 
commanding virtue, clothed m the resistless charms of female 
loveliness, here takes her residence. May her enlivening spirit 
breath through this assembly, and produce the most liberal be- 
neficence. 

Let us remember, that the motives to charity are weighty, 
and its rewards ample. By indulging a dtsposition to relieve 
and assist our fellow creatures, we strengthen our own virtue, 
and increase our own pleasures. We fortify ourselves against 
the calamities incident to our situation, and cultivate our hu- 
manity, by exercising our sympathy. That God whose we are, 
and to whose august tribunal we are amenable for our conduct, 
has laid upon us the injunctions of charity, and enforced them 
by the example of his own son. 

Let us then, with cheerfulness discharge our duty. Let us 
realize our affinity to the whole human race, and while we con- 
template their miseries, give the reins to all our benevo ent, 
sympathetic feelings. Though God has permitted sin and sor- 
row and death to triumph in the present state of things, for the 
exercise of our virtue and the display of his mercy, yet he has 
assured us that the time shall arrive when, " there shall be no 
more death, neither sorrow nor crying." The sun of righteous- 
ness will then beam on the picture of man's existence, chasing 
from it every cloud, bringing forth all its beauties, and covering 
it with glory. Benevolence will then wield her sceptre, and 



PROVIDENCE FEMALE CHARITABLE SOCIETY. 129 

bend all hearts to her control. This fair goddess descends from 
the skies veiled in a shower of roses. The gales of spring, fresh 
from the Paradise of God, hft the wings of ten thousand angels 
to attend her. The bending heavens brighten with her glory, 
and the exulting earth moves forward to admire her beauty. At 
her approach, the horrors of the dungeon vanish ; oppression 
drops his rattling chain ; grim avarice sinks into the dark re- ^ 
cesses of the globe ; orphan wretchedness, and pining poverty^ 
forget their care, and smile with grateful joy. 

While we feel and recognize the motives and obligations of 
our duty, let us remember, that though our present situation 
may be prosperous and happy, yet the time may arrive when 
we shall need that bounty, which we are now called on to be- 
stow. In such an event may we not confidently hope, that God, 
in whose hands we are, will pour upon us in reversion our deeds 
of charity ? In this assembly, I behold hearts throbbing with 
sensibihty, and countenances brightening with benevolence. 
Remember that, on this, as on all other occasions, your hu- 
manity must be measured by your generosity. May all our ex- 
ertions engage in the cause of benevolence. May that embalm- 
ing spirit of sympathy, which was deposited, in the breast of the 
first Fair, pervade us, and the whole world, and unite us in one 
great, indissoluble and happy fraternity. 



17 



A 

SERMON 

PREACHED ON LORD'S DAY. 

OCTOBER 1, 1812. 

AT THE HIGH HILLS OF SANTEE, 

BEFORE THE 

CHARLESTON BAPTIST ASSOCIATION, 

AT THEIR ANNUAL MEETING. 



A SERMON. 



THANKS BE TO GOD, WHO GIVETH US THE VICTORY THROUGH OUR LORD 
JESUS CHRIST.-l CoRiNTHiAWs xv. 57. 

Sin is the only origin of all evil, natural and moral. It has 
divested man of his primitive glory, alienated him from God, 
and subjected him to suffering and death. The divine laws are 
all good, and in their nature calculated to promote and secure 
the highest happiness of all intelligent beings. Of course, these 
laws, if always and fully obeyed, would forever exclude from 
the universe, all sin and misery. Supreme love to God, is the 
essence of all true virtue ; and the end of this, is happiness. 
The divine will or law, is therefore, the standard of virtue, and 
the rule of action for all rational, voluntary agents. These, 
therefore may with certainty calculate, that their ultimate hap- 
piness, will be exactly proportionate to their virtue in principle 
and practice. As conformity to the law of God, produces vir- 
tue and happiness, so disconformity to it, produces sin and mis- 
ery. Hence, all evil has originated in the mutabihty and de- 
fection of the creature, and not in an insufficiency of divine 
benevolence ; much less in a positive, divine influence. All 
evils, both moral and physical, are so many evidences of the sin 
and degradation of man. He is now in a state of exile ; in a land 
of bondage ; an enemy to God, and to himself. All the evils 
of his troublesome, evanescent life, are comprised in sin and 



134 SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE 

t 

pain. These he constantly feels. His soul is filled with un- 
hallowed desires, and with ungovernable appetites, at war with 
his reason and conscience. Agitated by a thousand restless ac- 
tivities, he wanders abroad in this valley of desolation, dissatis- 
fied with the present, tormented by the past, and anxious for the 
future. Born to trouble, he is a prey to himself, to others, 
and to all the elements of nature. Here he pines in poverty 
and famine ; there he languishes in w^ealth and luxury ; there, 
under the reign of liberty, he rushes into vice and licentious- 
ness ; there, under the stern sceptre of despotism, he sinks into 
a brute, and groans under the iron hand of oppression. In every 
part of the globe, through every period of life, he is exposed to 
evils which he cannot elude, and to injuries which he cannot 
redress. He perpetually pants after a happiness which he can- 
not find. Every object in creation, however alluring to his 
senses and imagination, fades away under his touch. For him, 
the privacy of retirement soon looses its charms ; public honors 
wither on his brow ; and all the pomp of grandeur sinks beneath 
him. He is indeed like " the troubled ocean, which cannot 
rest." All things animate and inanimate ; every hope and every 
joy ; health and sickness ; poverty and wealth ; all within and 
all without ; every virtue and every vice ; all proclaim the 
wretchedness, the guilt and impotence of man. He takes up 
his life in sorrow, carries it on in trouble, and lays it down in 
death. But shall he forever he under the bondage of corrup- 
tion ? Shall the ceaseless flight of ages serve only to augment 
and perpetuate his misery ? Shall not all those who believe in 
Christ, spring up from death vigorous and immortal ? They will 
be more than conquerors through him who hath loved them, and 
will triumphantly exclaim, '' Thanks be to God ! who giveth us 
the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ." 

From these w^ords, I shall exhibit the reasons of the christian's 
triumph over sin and death. 

First, He has evidence that he is liberated from the reigning 
power of sin. 

The scriptures represent the unregenerate as in a state of 
servitude, and wholly governed by the principle of evil. ''There 



CHARLESTON BAPTIST ASSOCIATION. 135 

is none righteous, no, not one." " There is none that under- 
standeth ; there is none that seeketh after God." " They are 
all gone out of the way ; they are together become unprofitable ; 
there is none that doeth good ; no, not one." Christ said, 
" Whosoever committeth sin, is the servant of sin." Every 
thought of the imagination of man's heart, v^^as pronounced by 
God, to be evil continually. " The heart of the wicked is fully 
set in him to do evil." The Apostle John says, " The whole 
world heth in wickedness." The prevalence of evil in the 
heart of man, is represented in Scripture, as a kingdom, as a 
dominion, as a tyranny. Hence the apostle Paul speaks of sin 
as " reigning unto death." To those therefore, who continue 
in a state of nature, there is no hope of salvation and no cause 
of triumph. They are liable to receive "the wages of sin, which 
is death." It is the excellency of the gospel, that it brings into 
the souls of men, a principle of spiritual life, delivering them 
from the bondage of sin, and inspiring them with hopes of 
future felicity. To this Christ had respect, when he said, " If 
the Son make you free, ye shall be free indeed." To the same 
transit from the bondage of sin, Paul had reference, when he 
said, "You hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses and 
sins." He declares, that they " were by nature, children of 
wrath even as others ;" and adds, " But God, who is rich in 
mercy, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us to- 
gether with Christ, for we are his workmanship, created in 
Christ Jesus unto good works." To the same purpose he says 
to the Corinthians, " If any man be in Christ, he is a new crea- 
ture." The real christian therefore, is one who has experienced 
a renovation of heart ; who has the witness in himself; who 
knows in whom he has believed, and rejoices that " because 
Christ lives, he shall Hve also." He realizes what the apostle 
Paul said to the Romans, " The spirit itself beareth witness with 
our spirit, that we are the children of God ; and if children, then 
heirs, heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ ; if so be that we 
suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together with him. 
The believer has abundant reason to triumph over sin and death, 
because he feels the power of Christ in his heart ; and has as- 
surance, by the earnest of the spirit ; that he shall be delivered 



r- 



136 SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE 

from the bondage of corruption, and no more be brought " into 
captivity to the law of sin. He considers natural death as a 
wise and necessary appointment in the divine economy. He 
considers the second death as the just punishment of sin, and is 
assured that on him, that death shall have no power. The love 
of God is shed abroad in his heart, and while he feels the pow- 
er of the world to come, he exclaims in the triumphant language 
of truth, " I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor an- 
gels, nor principahties, nor powers, nor things present, nor things 
to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be 
able to separate us from the love of God, which in Christ Jesus 
our Lord." It is by knowing him in the power of his resurrection ; 
it is by receiving his testimony ; it is by obeying his command ; 
that we can rise above the infirmity of our reason and our senses, 
and possess a hope full of ardor, full of immortality. He who 
has fled to the Saviour for refuge, who has really believed on 
him according to the Scriptures, can view sin and death as van- 
quished enemies. He views death as the destruction of all his 
sin and sorrow ; he stands aloft on the mountain of God, and 
with a confidence which no danger can shake, and an ecstacy 
which no language can express, exclaims, " Thanks be to God, 
who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." 

Secondly, Another reason of the christian's triumph over sin 
and death is, the evidence he has, that he is justified through 
Christ, and acquitted from condemnation. 

Sin is the only thing which has ever rendered men obnoxious 
to divine justice, and exposed them to punishment. Hence we 
can entertain no hope of exemption from misery, unless we are 
pardoned by a special act of divine favor. Pardon imphes the 
remission of punishment which may be justly inflicted. Hence 
pardon supposes and implies an acquittal from condemnation. 
The believer is made sensible of the remission of his sins, for 
" the love of God is shed abroad in his heart by the Holy 
Ghost." He is brought into the state in which the apostle rep- 
resents the Corinthians, when they had embraced the gospel ; 
" but ye are washed ; but ye are sanctified ; but ye are justified 
in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the spirit of our God." 



CHARLESTON BAPTIST ASSOCIATION. 137 

The apostle explains and enfarces the true import of our text in 
the words of the subsequent verse — "^The sting of death is sin." 
That is, death is an object of terror, and a source of misery, 
from no consideration except sin. The reason why we fear to 
undergo the change imphed in death, is an apprehension, that 
it will leave us in a state of misery. This apprehension cannot 
predominate in the mind of him, who is justified by Christ, for 
he is assured as Paul was, that " to die is gain," and '' to be 
absent from tlie body, is to be present with the Lord." The 
apostle farther illustrates the meaning of the text, and says, 
" The strength of sin is the law." That is, the law points out 
the nature and consequences of sin, ascertains its desert, and de- 
nounces puhishment. To the Romans Paul says, " I had not 
known sin but by the law." " Without the law sin was dead." 
*' I was alive without the law." That is, while he was without 
a knowledge of the real nature of the law, and the punishment 
it threatened sin, he entertained hopes of salvation by the law ; 
" but," says he, "when the commandment came" in its true im- 
port and force, " sin revived," it started up like a tyrant hold- 
ing him in bondage ; " and I died." That is, he gave up all 
hope of obtaining salvation by his own obedience to the law, and 
felt himself '' shut up" under condemnation. How was he then 
to be dehvered and justified ? By the righteousness of Christ. 
For he declares thus of Christ, " whom God hath set forth to 
be a propitiation through faith in his blood ; to declare his 
righteousness, that he might be just and the justifier of him who 
believeth in Jesus." He then who believes in Christ, trusts to 
his righteousness for salvation, is pardoned, acquitted from con- 
demnation, and of course, can with propriety triumph over sin 
and death, exclaiming with the apostle, " Thanks be to God, 
who giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ." 

Thirdly, Another reason of the christian's triumph over sin 
and death, is the evidence he has, that his salvation is wholly by 
the grace of God. 

From what has been advanced under the preceding articles, 
it appears, that he who is brought to believe on Christ, is con- 
vinced of the justice of his condemnation by the law, and de- 
IS 



138 SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE 

prived of all hope of obtaining salvation by it. Hence he 
knows and realizes that he is saved by grace. Grace is an ex- 
ercise of favor. It implies that the person to whom it is mani- 
fested, is treated better than he has a right to demand. It 
means the bestowing of good where evil is deserved, and may 
be justly inflicted. Dehverance, therefore, from the sentence of 
the law and salvation from sin, are the unmerited gifts of God. 
This reasoning abundantly corresponds with the language of 
scripture. — Says Paul, '' if they which are of the law be heirs, 
faith is made void and the promise of none effect." *' It is of 
faith, that it might be by grace, and if by grace then it no more 
of works, otherwise, grace is no more grace." " By grace are 
ye saved through faith, and that not of yourselves ; it is the gift 
of God." In the gospel plan of salvation, there is no such thing, 
as the blending of works and grace. Their nature, and their 
provinces are wholly distinct. " To him, says Paul, that work- 
eth, is the reward not reckoned of grace, but of debt ; but to 
him that worketh not, but believeth on him who justifieth the 
ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness." Behevers can 
say in the language of truth, " Not by works of righteousness 
which we have done, but according to his mercy, he saved us, 
that being justified by his grace, we should be made heirs ac- 
cording to the hope of eternal hfe." Thus the christian, con- 
vinced from his own experience and the scriptures, that his sal- 
vation is by grace, has no confidence in himself; but places it 
all in God. Here is all his hope, and all his rejoicing. For he 
knows that God is faithful, by whom he was called to the fellow- 
ship of his son. If his salvation were left to his own wavering 
resolutions, and feeble efforts, he might well despair ; he might 
well expect never to be free from the sting of death and the 
strength of sin ; but as he knows, that he is kept by the power 
of God, he can with confidence consider himself as more than 
conqueror. 

Fourthly, Another reason of the Christianas triumph is, the 
evidence he has of the resurrection of Christ. 

Our assent to the truth of this, is to be governed, though not 
exclusively, by the testimony of those who were eye witnesses. 



CHARLESTON BAPTIST ASSOCIATION. 139 

The fact, therefore, of Christ's resurrection, claims belief on the 
same ground as other historical facts. What then do we require 
in order to the belief of these ? That there should be a suffi- 
cient number of witnesses, men of veracity not governed by in- 
terested motives. In these respects, the accounts given by the 
evangelists and apostles carry irresistible conviction. Their con- 
duct in asserting the resurrection of Christ, is utterly unac- 
countable on any supposition,except that of a firm belief, founded 
on the resistless evidence of their senses. Like plain honest 
men, they simply declared the fact. They persisted in declaring 
it. From what motives did they act ? Did they seek for ease, 
or fame, or wealth, or honor ? No ; in asserting the resurrection 
of Christ, they sacrificed every thing usually esteemed among 
men. They exposed themselves to reproach and persecution, 
to poverty and distress. Would they have done these things, 
if they had not possessed sufficient evidence that Christ had 
risen from the dead ? The immediate disciples of Christ did not 
seem to understand him, when he repeatedly assured them, that 
he should die, and that he should rise again on the third day. 
When he was crucified they seemed to have despaired of the 
cause in which they had embarked. Could any thing but the 
clearest evidence dispel their doubts, and revive their confi- 
dence ? When they saw their master hanging on the cross, suf- 
fering death, the greatest of all human calamities, could any 
trivial motive, could any probable testimony, induce them to 
engage again in his cause, and expose themselves to the ven- 
geance of his murderers ? Reason says, no ; common sense and 
common experience say, no. What evidence then had the 
disciples which convinced them, dispelled their doubts, and re- 
called their hopes ? I answer, the evidence of their senses. "To 
them, Christ after his passion, showed himself alive by many 
infallible proofs, being seen of them forty days, and speaking of 
the things pertaining to the kingdom of God." The apostle 
Paul had been a great enemy to Christ and to his followers. 
He persecuted them even unto strange cities. Yet violent and 
obstinate as he was, he was finally convinced of his error, and 
became a zealous supporter of the resurrection of Christ. He 
supposed this doctrine to be a fiction ; a doctrine injurious to 



140 SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE 

himself and his nation. We may therefore be assured that he 
did not embrace it without the most impressive evidence. This 
evidence he states thus — " For I dehvered unto you first of all, 
that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins ; 
that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day ; and 
that he was seen of Cephas ; then of the twelve ; after that, he 
was seen of above five hundred brethren at once, of whom the 
greater part remain unto this present, but some are fallen asleep ; 
after that he was seen of James, then of all the apostles ; and 
last of all he was seen of me also." This account was written 
by Paul, but a few years after the resurrection. He had all the 
means necessary to produce full conviction, and he received 
with joy the doctrine he had labored to exterminate. 

The evidences of the resurrection have been transmitted to 
us through the testimony of relators, and arc as direct and full 
iis the evidences of any fact recorded in history. I am persuad- 
ed that no man who sufficiently and candidly examines these 
evidences, can withhold his belief of the resurrection of Christ. 
If he can, he can disbelieve all history without exception. The 
resurrection of Christ is the basis of Christianity. " If Christ 
be not risen, our faith is vain, we are yet in our sins." " But 
now is Christ risen." Of course the christian is assured that 
he shall be like him ; that he shall be fashioned like to Christ's 
glorious body ; and that with him, he shall live, and reign, and 
triumph forever. 

Fifthly, Another reason of the christian's triumph over sin and 
death, is, the evidence he has, that all mankind shall be raised 
up from the dead. 

For the knowledge of the resurrection of the body, we are 
wholly indebted to divine revelation. Our faith in this doctrine 
rests exclusively on the testimony of God. It is not analogous 
to any known laws of nature, that animal bodies once dead, 
should be reorganized and reanimated. These effects, however, 
can be produced by omnipotence, and require no greater power 
and wisdom than were exerted to form the first living body. 
The resurrection of the body is abundantly asserted in the scrip- 
tures, particularly in those of the New Testament. Christ said, 



CHARLESTON BAPTIST ASSOCIATION. 141 

^'The hour is coming when all that are in their graves, shall come 
forth." The apostle Paul says thus, " But now is Christ risen 
from the dead and become the first fruits of them that slept." 
The first fiuits were a pledge and assurance of the subsequent 
harvest. In like manner Christ's resurrection is a pledge of 
the resurrection of the dead. '^ For, as in Adam all die, even 
so in Christ shall all be made alive." The doctrine of the re- 
surrection, constituted a chief part of the primitive apostolic 
preaching. In the fourth chapter of the Acts, it is said of Peter 
and John, that the priests and captains of the temple were 
grieved that they taught the people, and preached through Jesus, 
the resurrection of the dead. In the eighteenth chapter Paul de- 
clares to king Agrippa that the Jews had accused him on ac- 
count of his hope of the resurrection of the dead, and says, 
" why should it be thought a thing incredible with you, that God 
should raise the dead ?" To the Athenians the same Apostle 
preached " Jesus and the resurrection." To the Corinthians he 
said, " God hath both raised up the Lord, and will raise us up 
by his power." — There appear to be two resurrections spoken of 
in the scriptures. The first is described by Paul, thus, ''For the 
Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the 
voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God, and the dead 
in Christ shall rise first ; then we which are alive and remain, shall 
be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the 
Lord in the air, and so shall we be ever with the Lord. "John the 
revelator describes the same, thus, " And I saw thrones, and 
they sat upon them, and judgment was given unto them, and I 
saw the souls of them that were beheaded for the witness of 
Jesus, and they lived and reigned with Christ a thousand years. 
But the rest of the dead lived not till the thousand years were 
ended. This is the first resurrection. Blessed and holy is he 
that hath part in the first resurrection ; on such the second death 
hath no power, but they shall be priests of God, and of Christ, 
and shall reign with him a thousand years." — The second and 
general resurrection is described thus by Christ. '' The hour is 
coming when all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and 
shall come forth ; they that have done good unto the resurrec- 
tion of life, and they that have done evil unto the resurrection of 



143 SERMON PREACHED BEEORE THE 

damnation." John says, " I saw the dead small and great stand 
before God : and the sea gave up the dead that were in it ; and 
death and heil delivered up the dead that were in them." Thus 
it appears from the scriptures that all mankind will be raised 
from the dead. The resurrection of those who believe in 
Christ, is taught more fully in the scriptures, than the resurrec- 
tion of the wicked. The reason of this doubtless was, that be- 
lievers, particularly in the primitive ages of the Church, might 
be encouraged to persevere. Paul says to the Romans, 
"if the spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead 
dwell in you, he shall also quicken your mortal bodies, by his 
spirit that dwelleth in you." To the Philippians he says of 
Christ, " Who shall change our vile body, that it may be fash- 
ioned like to his glorious body." To the Corinthians he says, 
" As we have borne the image of the earthly we shall also bear 
the image of the heavenly." The christian, then, has great 
reason to triumph over sin and death ; for he has a well ground- 
ed hope that his body will be raised up from death freed from 
sin, rendered glorious, spiritual, incorruptible, and capable of 
endless felicity in heaven. 

Sixthly, Another reason of the christian's triumph is, the ev- 
idence he has, that after the resurrection, he shall be admitted 
to complete eternal happiness in heaven. 

It is evident from the scriptures, that believers immediately 
after death, enter into happiness. Paul said thus, '' for me to 
die, is gain, — I am in a straight betwixt two, having a desire to 
depart and to be with Christ, which is far better." " We are 
confident and willing rather to be absent from the body and to 
be present with the Lord." The voice from heaven said to 
John, " Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from hence- 
forth ;" that is, their blessedness will commence as soon as they 
die. The state which intervenes betw^een death and the final 
judgment, is in the scriptures, termed Hades. Into this state 
both the righteous and the wicked enter, though it is not the 
final state of happiness for the former nor of punishment for the 
latter. It was into this state that the soul of Christ entered 
after his crucifixion. The Apostle Peter applies the words of 



%^ 



CHARLESTON BAPTIST ASSOCIATION. 143 

the Psalmist to him, '' Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell," or 
hades. Christ by descending into this region established his 
power in it. For says Paul, " For this cause Christ both died 
and rose and revived, that he might be Lord of the dead and 
Jiving." Hence it follows that death does not destroy, i:or even 
interrupt the kingdom of Christ. This kingdom reaches for- 
ward and is continued into the invisible state, and through that 
to final happiness in heaven. Christ said thus, "I say unto thee 
that thou art Peter, and on this rock will I build my church, and 
the gates of hell or hades shall not prevail against it." What 
are we to understand by the gates of hades ? Undoubtedly they 
mean death, because death lets us into the invisible world, the 
receptacle of departed souls. By the gates of hades not prevail- 
ing against the church ; we are to understand that death neither 
destroys the soul, nor suspends its power and enjoyments ; but 
only separates it from the body and introduces it into that 
world which will continue till the resurrection. Whatever was 
terrible in that state, has been removed by Christ. He has ren- 
dered the path luminous to all his followers. Believers will 
doubtless enjoy great happiness in this state ; but when their 
bodies shall be raised incorruptible, and be united to their souls, 
their happiness will exceed all conception. It will be " a crown 
of life, and an eternal weight of glory." Just so sure as Christ 
has died, and entered the invisible state ; just so sure we must 
die and enter that state ; just so sure as he has risen, just so sure 
we shall rise ; just so sure as he now reigns in glory, just so 
sure we shall reign with him, for we shall ''see him as he is, 
and shall be like him." All real christians who die in faith will 
be brought forth from hades to the resurrection of life. Christ 
who is their king and their judge, will say unto them, " come ye 
blessed of my father, inherit the kingdom, prepared for you, 
from the foundation of the world." They will then take pos- 
session of that inheritance which has been reserved in heaven 
for them, " an inheritance, incorruptible, undefiled, and that fa- 
deth not away." — Thus by the light of scripture we can trace 
the progress of those who embrace the gospel, not only through 
this world, but through death, through the invisible intervening 
world, and to the state of eternal glory in heaven. When they 



144 SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE 

arrive at that mansion, beyond the reach of sin, and sorrow, and 
pain, and death, and hell ; with what ecstacy will they adore 
that power, and wisdom, and goodness, which brought them out 
of all their tribulations, to a kingdom of pure delight ; w^here 
sun and moon and stars shall fade ; and the Lord shall be their 
everlasting hght, and their God and their glory ! 

Having brought into view the reasons of the christian's tri- 
umph over sin and death, I shall now close the subject by mak- 
ing one general remark, and giving it a brief illustration. The 
remark I would make is this — That the doctrines advanced in the 
preceding discourse, are peculiar and distinguishing to revela- 
tion ; and that they are admirably adapted to man as a fallen, 
sinful being. Under the three first particulars, it was shown 
that the christian has reason to triumph over sin and death, 
from the evidence he has, that the reigning power of sin over 
his heart is destroyed ; that he is justified and acquitted from 
condemnation, by the righteousness of Christ ; and that his sal- 
vation is wholly from the grace of God. The writings of the 
ancient philosophers, though professedly designed for the re- 
formation and happiness of man, contain no such doctrines as 
these. These are above all human wisdom. They apply to the 
heart, which is the seat of all man^s wickedness. They are cal- 
culated to make the tree good, that the fruit also may be good. 
That religion can be of no real use to man, which does not in- 
spire his heart with good principles. The first thing that real 
religion implies, is a renovation of the moral temper. If it did 
not proceed farther, it would leave man in despair, as to final 
happiness ; for he would feel himself a sinner, and liable to suf- 
fer the penalty of the divine law. The scriptures in the next 
place present the righteousness of Christ, by which the sinner is 
justified, accepted and pardoned. His fears are now allayed ; 
and he has a hope, like " an anchor to the soul, sure and sted- 
fast." He boasts no righteousness of his own, and is convinced 
that his deliverance has proceeded wholly from the free grace of 
God. This doctrine is calculated to humble his pride, and 
make him place all his dependence on God. Such is the ex- 
cellency of the christian doctrine. 

Under the three last particulars of the preceding discourse it 



CHARLESTON BAPTIST ASSOCIATION, 145 

was shown, that the christian had reason to triumph over sin 
and death, from the evidence he has, that Christ has risen from 
the dead ; that all mankind will be raised, and that he shall 
finally be received into eternal happiness in heaven. These 
doctrines, like those just mentioned, are peculiar to revelation. 
Though they he more out of the reach of common experience, 
because they are founded wholly on testimony ; yet they are 
not less true, nor less firmly believed by the christian. It is suf- 
ficient for him, that they are contained in a system of doctrines 
exhibiting the most prominent features of a divine original. H^ 
assents to the ressurrection of Christ, because he thinks it at- 
tested by a sufficient number of adequate witnesses ; he assents 
to the resurrection of the body, because it is abundantly asserted 
in the testimony of God. For the same reason, he assents to 
the final happiness of the believer. It is not essential to a chris- 
tian, that he should be able to comprehend the manner in which 
theological truths consist; nor the manner in which prophecied 
events and facts will take place. To all those things contained 
in the scriptures, beyond human comprehension, the christian 
assents solely on the testimony of God. This assent is denomi- 
nated faith, and its full extent implies a surrender of the heart 
and intellect to God. And hence it is that so much importance 
is attached to faith, and that it is ranked first in the catalogue of 
all moral and divine virtues. The exercise of faith, is perfectly 
reasonable and consistent. For man in his present dark, im- 
perfect state of existence, cannot comprehend all the truths 
which it is essential to his happiness to admit and practise. 
Hence Paul says, " Faith is the substance of things hoped for." 
It attaches on things invisible ; it realizes their existence, so that 
they exert a governing influence on the heart and become prin- 
ciples of action. Hence the apostle says, " We walk by faith, 
not by sight." From what strong and exalted motives must he 
act, who firmly believes, that he shall be raised from the dead ; 
and that if he endures to the end in virtue, he shall be saved ? 
The preceding doctrines are calculated to alleviate the suffer- 
ings, sorrows, and calamities of the present hfe. Receiving, 
experiencing and believing the truth, w^e shall be persuaded that 
" if this earthly house of our tabernacle were dissolved, we have 
19 



146 SERMON, &C. 

a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the 
heavens." 

Of what vast importance then, is it, that we embrace the 
doctrines contained in the pages of inspiration ? Here only, 
shall we find an unerring directory to the kingdom of eternal 
glory. Here only, are exhibited motives the most powerful to 
excite us to virtue, and to deter us from sin. Are there any 
here, whose views of happiness are limited to the present transi- 
tory scene ? What will become of those pleasures, you so eager- 
ly pursue ? Of those honors in which you exult ? Of those riches 
you amass ? Of those splendors in which you shine ? Can these 
support you on the couch of disease, or in the hour of dissolu- 
tion ? Alas ! all, all will vanish. They will leave you in sorrow 
and in death. How much better to embrace the gospel ! to be 
governed in time by motives drawn from eternity ! You will 
then find a Saviour, whose presence will be the strength of your 
heart ; whose love will disarm the king of terrors ; whose glory 
will shine through the gloomy valley. His almighty arm will 
support you in your departure from time, and his hand will 
place on your head a crown of eternal life. 



A 

FUNERAL SERMON 

OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF 

THE REV. JAMES MANNING, D. D. 

PRESIDENT OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE. 

DELIVERED IN THE BAPTIST MEETING-HOUSE, 

IN PROVIDENCE, 

July 31, 1791. 



r 



PREFACE 



Concerning the death with which Adam was threatened, 
theologians have entertained various and opposite opinions. 
These, so far as I can recollect from the course of my reading, 
may be comprehended in the following summary. 

The first maintains, that the threatened death, implied, tem- 
poral (or natural,) spiritual and eternal death. 

The second, that it implied natural death only. 

The third, that it implied spiritual death only. 

The fourth, that it implied annihilation. 

The second of these opinions has, on the whole, appeard to 
me the most rational and consistent. I am not, however, dis- 
posed to be so rigidly tenacious of my own sentiments, as to 
imagine I may not be in an error. All men have full liberty of 
opinion, and ought to enjoy it without subjecting themselves to 
the imputation of heresy. For my own part, I can safely say, 
that I have never been disposed to confine myself to the peculiar 
tenets of any sect of religionists whatever. Great and good 
men have appeared among all denominations of christians, and 
I see not why all do not deserve an equal share of attention and 
regard. My object has been to examine with candor the senti- 
ments of all, and to receive whatever appeard to be consistent 
with truth. 

In that part of the following Sermon to which objections have 



150 



PREFACE. 



been made, my sole design was to investigate the scripture 
doctrine of the origin and destruction of natural death. As my 
own conviction obliged me to dissent from most of my brethren 
on the subject, I was unfortunate enough to incur no small de- 
gree of displeasure, and to subject myself to the suspicion of 
adopting opinions which never held a residence in my heart, and 
of discarding others which I fully believed. Many consequences 
were drawn, w^hich by no means followed from the arguments 
advanced in the Sermon. I know not by what kind of argu- 
mentation it can be proved, that he who believes God annexed 
natural death only, to the breach of a positive command must 
be supposed to believe, that sin deserves no other punishment, 
or that man is not in a state of total depravity, and that he is 
not wholly dependent on the favor of God for salvation. Every 
moral being, as soon as he begins to exist in a state of con- 
sciousness and intelligence, is bound by moral law, and cannot 
deviate from it without involving himself in guilt and spiritual 
death. This death, which is alienation of affection from God, 
exposes the subject of it not only to everlasting ruin by a ne- 
cessary consequence, but to whatever positive punishments the 
good of the universe may render it proper to inflict. Spiritual 
death was introduced by violation of the moral law written in 
the heart of Adam, and took place before he had eaten the for- 
bidden fruit. The moment he consented to violate a positive 
command, he exposed himself to the true, proper and necessary 
punishment of sin. Mortality did not, like spiritual death, 
necessarily result from the violation of a moral law, nor from any 
previous fitness and connexion of things, but from the arbitra- 
ry though wise appointment of Jehovah. The angels who sinned, 
were not subjected to mortality. Let us suppose that the threat- 
ening of natural death had been previously denounced, as their 
punishment for violating a positive law, would it not be reason- 
able to infer that, that threatening included all their present 
misery and spiritual death ? The term death appears to me to 
have but one original plain meaning, "the loss of life." In va- 
rious parts of the scriptures, it is used by a figure of speech in 
a sense different from what is proper to it. It is sometimes 
used to point out the state of men wholly under the dominion 



PREFACE. 151 

of sin, and sometimes, the misery to be endured as the punish- 
ment of sin. But is it right to infer, that a word when used in 
a sense different from that which is proper to it, comprehends 
not only its proper meaning, but one or two figurative meanings ? 
Proceeding in this way, we violate the laws of propriety, and 
leave no standard by which we can ascertain the meaning in- 
tended by the author. 

Some have supposed that I viewed the Atonement as of little 
consequence, because I considered Christ's sufferings no farther 
than they respected natural death. To this I would reply, that 
the subject I was discussing required me to show the manner in 
which Christ had abolished death, and not the manner in which 
he had rendered the pardon of sin consistent. 

These observations are suggested with no other view than to 
make it appear, that nothing in the following Discourse is so JBS^'^'4 
inconsistent with orthodox divinity'as some have supposed. I 
may be in an error. If I be, possibly, I may not be destitute 
of companions, even from among those, who determine never 
to deviate from opinions they have once adopted. 

The only thing really essential to christian union is love, or 
benevolent affection. It is therefore, with me a fixed principle 
to censure no man, except for immorality. A diversity of re- 
ligious opinions, in a state so imperfect, obscure and sinful as 
the present, is to be expected. An entire coincidence in senti- 
ment, even in important doctrines, is by no means essential to 
christian society, or the attainment of eternal felicity. How 
many are there who appear to have been subjects of regenera- 
tion, who have scarcely an entire, comprehensive view of one 
doctrine in the Bible ? Will the gates of Paradise be barred 
against these, because they did not possess the penetrating sagac- 
ity of an Edwards, or Hopkins ? Or shall these great theological 
champions engross heaven, and shout hallelujahs from its walls, 
while a Priestly, a Price, and a Winchester, merely for diflfer- 
ence in opinion, though pre-eminent in virtue, must sink into 
the regions of darkness and pain ? I cannot induce myself to 
repose so small a share of confidence in the mercy of God, as to 
imagine, he will not pardon all the sincere errors of his crea- 
tures. All men are capable of the same moral temper, but not 



15^ PREFACE. 

of the same intellectual views, enjoyments, and acquisitions. 
Deity, benevolent in all his designs, and glorious in all his 
works, has exhibited a variety in the capacities of men, not less 
beautiful, not less harmonious and useful than that which he 
has exhibited in the productions of nature. Perfect union in 
opinion and belief will not take place, till all men possess, not 
only the same kind of temper, but the same degree of capacity. 
Candor and forbearance ought always to mark the character of 
christians. Nothing derogates more from their true dignity 
than to censure or neglect others for difference of sentiment, es- 
pecially when they consider, that '• the ways of God are past 
finding out" to perfection. 

J. M. 
K I College, June 23, 1796. 



A FUNERAL SERMON. 



THE LAST ENEMY THAT SHALL BE DESTROYED, IS DEATH.— 1 Cok. xv. 26. 

That period which terminates human life is truly solemn and 
important. Solemn, because it crumbles us to dust ; im- 
portant, because it determines our fate for eternity. Death 
divests us of all our splendor, and robs us of all our en- 
joyments. A near view of the gloomy vale in which he reigns, 
freezes our spirits, and startles us with horror. We look at the 
pale vault of skulls, and weep for the fate of man. We behold 
his awful enemy, the king of terrors, reigning over him with 
silent but expressive triumph. The circumstances with which 
death is attended, are peculiarly shocking to humanity. The 
ghastly countenance, the convulsive struggle, the expiring 
groan, the total inactivity, the opening grave, the descend- 
ing coffin ; these damp our spirits, check our presump- 
tion ; they solemnize our cheerful passions ; they arrest our at- 
tention ; they place eternity before us ; they plant our paths 
with terror, and invest us with a melancholy gloom. Death, the 
best men contemplate with an awful solemnity of soul. Said 
David, " my flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the strength 
of my heart." Psal. Ixxiii, 2 — 6. Said a kingof Judah, ^'in the 
cutting off" my days, I shall go to the gates of the grave. I am 
deprived of the residue of my years. I shall not see the Lord 
in the land of the living ; I shall behold man no more, with the 
inhabitants of the earth." Is. xxxviii, 10, 11. To us, indeed, 
death is clothed in terror. We consider him as our enemy^ 
20 



w 



154 FUNERAL SERMON. 

whether we contemplate him as separating soul and body by 
painful agonies, as tearing us from the world, or entering us on 
the undiscovered regions of eternity. Such is our condition in 
the present state of existence, such are our connexions and de- 
pendencies, so imperfect is our knowledge of futurity, so inade- 
quate are our conceptions of the great plan of divine adminis- 
tration, that even if death were in reality our greatest friend, yet 
we cannot avoid considering him as our greatest enemy. At 
the very sound of death, nature startles with alarm. The au- 
thority of reason, and the fortitude of philosophy, are lost in 
our innate fears of dissolution. Our timorousness adds to our 
misery ; it throws a gloom over our expiring moments, and 
sharpens the sting of death. 

We stand on " the isthmus of a middle state." If we look 
back, we behold nothing but the black gulf of non-existence ; 
if we look forward, we see the interminable ocean of eternity. 
The waves are constantly rolling against us and threatening to 
overwhelm us. The foundation trembles beneath our feet. To 
go back, we shudder ; to go forward, we fear and tremble. We 
therefore cling to our present possession ; we maintain the 
contest as long as possible. Man has in this world no perma- 
nent residence. Enemies on all sides arm themselves against 
him, to drive him into eternity. Poverty and want surround 
him ; misfortune stretches over him her iron hand ; sorrows and 
grief oppress him ; disease and infirmity attack him. But ex- 
posed as man is, forlorn and wretched in himself and in his con- 
dition, yet to fill up the cup of his woe, he must struggle with 
death ! liable every moment to be rushed into eternity ! death 
thou considerest as thine enemy ; well, let him be thine enemy ► 
Submit. But cease to weep, for victory is thine. 

We see man rise into life ; we watch his progress through it. 
We behold him smiling in the bloom and sprightliness of youth, 
exulting in the splendor and vigor of manhood, crowned with 
the wisdom and clothed with the dignity of age. We mark 
his decline ; we follow him to the tomb ; but unassisted by reve- 
lation, we can follow him no farther. Nature here leaves us 
enveloped in midnight darkness. An awful shade hangs over 
the region of death. The man is bound and confined in the 



FUNERAL SERMON. 155 

prison of his enemy. We may weep for his fate, but we can- 
not assist him ; we cannot release him. Human ability can find 
no way for his deliverance. But shall he never be delivered ? 
Alas ! Shall we forever weep over his ruins ? Shall the great 
enemy forever hold the man under his pale dominion ? Whither 

shall we fly for assistance ? Shall we find no consolation ? 

" Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory." But how 
does he give it ? " Through our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath 
abolished death, and hath brought life and immortality to light," 
Though death establish an universal empire on the ruins of hu- 
manity, yet that empire shall be subverted ; though he bind 
man in prison, yet Christ opens " the prison doors to those that 
are bound ;" though he be our enemy, our most formidable 
enemy, yet he is our last enemy, and shall be destroyed ; for 
thus saith the text, " The last enemy that shall be destroyed is 
death." 

I. In what respects does death appear to be our enemy ? 

II. How shall he be destroyed ? 

III. What the consequences of his destruction ? 

I. In what respects does death appear to be our enemy? He 
appears our enemy, because he effects the disunion of soul and 
body. Between them the established connexion is mutually 
strong and dehghtsome. Hence Paul says, " no man ever hated 
his own body." Eph. v. 29. He loves to procure it nourish- 
ment, to afford it the proper means of exercise, and to indulge 
it in tranquility. A flood of health, while it invigorates the 
body, enlivens and accelerates the mind. Sickness, while it 
emaciates the former, depresses the latter. The disorders of 
the mind have no less effect on the body. Mutual sympathy 
takes place between them. They are intimate companions. 
They alleviate their sorrows and heighten their joys, by recipro- 
cal participation. Though the soul possesses powers which 
evince her capacity of separate subsistence, and mark her desti- 
nation for immortality ; yet, as she is in the embryo of her ex- 
istence, as she knows not what awful scenes of glory or terror 
may He before her ; she is reluctant to have her present con- 




156 FUNERAL SERMON. 

nexion with the body dissolved. Notwithstanding the authori- 
tative voice of revelation, the soul, surrounded with native fears, 
feels uncertain whether she shall depart to lodge in a prison of 
misery, to exult in a mansion of joy, or to roam unguided 
through the vast amplitude of the universe. As the soul, in- 
volved in uncertainty with respect to futurity, is unwilling to 
quit her present station ; as she is in so great a degree delighted 
in her present union with the body, as to prefer it to a dislodge- 
ment into eternity ; death, which dissolves that union, is viewed 
as the enemy of man. Death frightens us with terror, and 
wrings us with agony. Nature herself teaches us to consider 
that which produces pain and misery, as our enemy. Could we 
in the twinkhng of an eye be snatched into incorruptibility, 
without the struggles of dissolution, death could not reach us 
with his sting ; he could not be viewed as our enemy, because 
he could have no power, and consequently could not bow us to 
his dominion. But while we are clothed with mortality, we 
must be exposed to his attacks. Sin has divested us of our 
armor, and exposed us to our enemy. The soul when attacked 
yields with reluctancy. She maintains the contest with the 
king of terrors, wdien he surrounds her with all his army of dis- 
ease and pain. At length, disabled by repeated assaults, she 
quits her garrison, and reverts to her great original. The body 
is now subjected, and left to devouring death. The great enemy 
is now victorious. He reigns, he triumphs over man ; — man, 
once Lord of creation, now the prisoner of death. He stiffens 
the mortal, and buries him in the dust. There he crumbles his 
sinews, there he moulders his bones, and riots on his marrow. 
Thus death, as he tears asunder soul and body by painful strug- 
gles, and reduces the latter to the dust, is viewed as the enemy 
of man. 

2. Death appears to be an enemy, because he cuts the ten- 
derest ties of nature and friendship. Our connexions, both do- 
mestic and social, are sources of the highest temporal happiness. 
Without them, existence w^ould scarcely be desirable. But does 
not death dissolve them all ? Miserable indeed must be that man 
who is deprived of friends, secluded society, and doomed to 
perpetual solitude. Imagine to yourselves some unhappy mor- 



FUNERAL SERMOlf. 157 

tal bereft of all connexions in society. Dejected with melan- 
choUy, alone, he wanders amidst the rough scenes of nature in 
the solitary wild, where scarce the savage foot has trod. He 
stops. He leans on the rock, where the stream gushes its mur- 
murs from the caverned mountains. He thinks of his friends, 
his once-loved friends, cut down by death ; all hurried from the 
world ; he only left disconsolate, to bear their name, and mourn 
their fate. The recollection breaks his heart. The tear drops, 
— " O death, my greatest enemy ! why to me so cruel ! O wing 
a dart, and snatch me from the world. Give me to my friends." 
This enemy calls us to the greatest sacrifices. He rushes into 
our families ; tears away our parents, brothers, sisters, children. 
He throws a dismal veil over all the objects of our delight. 
Our hearts sw-ell with softest grief, our eyes float in feeling tears. 
The voice of woe sighs through our mansions. The last enemy 
is an universal enemy. Wide is the field of his ravages ; pro- 
miscuous and dreadful his carnage. With a merciless hand he 
crumbles all in ruin, from the blooming babe to the man of snowy 
locks. With an impartial hand, he lays in dust the haughty 
master and the cringing slave, the empurpled monarch and the 
tattered beggar. He unnerves the arm of strength, and w^ithers 
the bloom of beauty. He destroys the most specious titles, the 
most delicious life, and the most dazzling grandeur. Mortal 
man ! look at thine enemy ; thy coffin, thy grave ; thyself, a 
ghastly sheeted corpse ; cast thine eye on the dominions of death ! 
What seest thou? Does not thy blood freeze? Does not thy 
hair rise, and stiffen on thy head? Dark, lonely, silent, is the 
house of death. There the memory of past joys can never 
come ; no mirth there cheers the gloomy mansion. Ghastly 
and frightful the pale inhabitants. Here are the victories, here 
the spoils, here the trophies of our enemy. Man may rise high 
in honor, he may be surrounded with the guards, and invested 
with the pomp of royalty ; his elevation may secure the submis- 
sion, and excite the admiration, of his fellow mortals ; but, when 
death arrives, all these circumstances serve only to render his 
victory more complete, and the ruin more extensive. Though 
the monarch, in the days of his prosperity, may defy the powers 
of earth ; yet, when the king of terror comes, his heart will fail, 



158 . FUNERAL SERMON. 

his throne will totter, his crown will slide from his brow, and 
his sceptre will drop from his hand. 

3. Death appears our enemy, because he strips us of all our 
enjoyments. Riches, honors, pleasures ; these must be reduced 
to the shroud in which we must soon be buried. If we are de- 
lighted with breathing- the air, and beholding the light of heaven ; 
if we are delighted with the bounties of God's providence ; if 
we are charmed with the grandeur and beauty of creation ; 
death must be considered as our enemy. He presses the lungs, 
that they cannot rise ; he withers the eye, that it cannot see ; he 
dulls the ear, that it cannot hear ; and stiffens the senses, that 
we cannot feel. 

4. He is our enemy, because he is arrayed in terror. " The 
sting of death," says Paul, " is sin." 'Tis this that gives him all 
his power ; 'tis this that exposes us to his attacks. A sense of 
sin loads the mind with guilt, and penetrates it with a fearful 
sense of judgment. The most natural idea that occurs, in a 
near view of death is, that the soul immediately after its disun- 
ion with the body, must appear before the great Judge of the 
universe. She shudders at the thought ; but death hurries her 
away prepared or unprepared. Tears, and groans, and sighs 
may plead, but all in vain. No stop, no delay, no discharge. 
Go we must, lodge we must in the house of death. This enemy 
is truly terrible. When he separates soul and body, agony and 
pain are his attendants. When he brings us to the bourne of 
life, and the soul with an exploring eye looks all around for as- 
sistance, he saddens us with grief, by bringing to view the ob- 
jects of delight, which we must now leave forever. We look 
back with regret, we look forward with amazement. Death 
encircles us with terror. Creation fades on the sight ; the aw- 
ful veil, thrown over futurity, begins to draw back. Our spirits 
shrink. Death pities us not. He hurries us forward. Alas ! 
how melancholy the thought, that we must be forced by this 
enemy from all the scenes of hfe, to dwell with the sheeted 
dead ! The places which now know us, will soon know us no 
more forever. To us the sun will soon cease to rise ; to us the 
seasons will cease to return with their grateful vicissitudes. 

5. Death appears our enemy, if we consider him as the off- 



FUNERAL SERMON. 159 

spring of sin. Paul says, that " by sin, death entered into the 
world, and passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." 
This enemy has reigned over the vi^hole family of man. He 
has used all the elements of nature to pour the punishment of 
our sin on man." Many a mortal has he lodged in the bed of the 
great deep ; many has he consumed with flames ; milhons has 
he crushed in the jaws of earthquakes : millions has he de- 
stroyed by the violence of tempests. This enemy lurks all 
around us, in the earth, in air, in sea, in fire, in our food ; nay, 
in ourselves. Thus death appears to be our enemy, whether 
we consider him as destroying the body, taking away our rela- 
tions, stripping us of all our enjoyments arming himself with 
terrors, and punishing us for our sins with disease and 
all the elements of nature. Numerous indeed are the ene- 
mies we have to encounter, sickness, pain, disappointment, 
poverty and want ; but the greatest enemy which none can 
withstand, is death. And yet, formidable as he is, complete 
as his victory appears, we have the joyful, solemn news to de- 
clare, " this enemy shall be destroyed." The text styles him 
the last enemy. Yet we shall obtain the victory. The devil 
was man's first enemy, and death is his last. Both shall be de- 
stroyed. Christ " hath abolished death ;" he was manifest in 
the flesh, '• that through death he might destroy him who had 
the power of death, that is the devil." Christ has struck the 
blow which will complete the victory, in the destruction of 
death. 

II. But how shall death be destroyed ? 

That we may answer this question with perspicuity, it is ne- 
cessary to ascertain what is implied in the word death, as used in 
our text. Paul, while treating of the resurrection, that he might 
with the greater plainness shew how it should be eflfected, in- 
forms us how man became subject to m^ortality. He institutes 
a comparison between Adam and Christ ; opposes the death 
introduced by the first, to the fife restored by the last. " By 
man," says he, " came death ; by man came also the resurrec- 
tion of the dead." That is, as Adam subjected man to death, 
so Christ restored him to life. ^' For as in Adam all die, even 



160 



FUNERAL SERMON. 



SO in Christ shall all be made alive," In these passages, Paul 
speaks simply of the resuscitation of the body. It is fully evi- 
dent, that as to restoration from death, all men gain in Christ 
w^hat they lost in Adam ; because the argumentation, in the 
verses preceding our text, evinces that Christ * aboUshed that 
death which Adam incurred. Let us examine. " In the day 
that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die ;" " or dying, thou 
shalt die ;" or, as some of the Hebrews translate it, " you shall 
then begin to be mortal." This sentence has been explained 
by many as including not only natural, but what divines term 
spiritual death. This death, we are told, consists in " separa- 
tion from God ;" an entire inability to perform holy exercises, 
an entire destitution of holiness. It consists in sin, in opposi- 
tion of heart to God. That all mankind are in such a state of 
insensibility to divine things, that they may be said to be dead 
in sin, to have a spiritual death, w^e readily acknowledge. But 
that spiritual death was threatened as the punishment of eating 
the 'forbidden fruit, is not evident, either from scripture or reas- 
on. We readily grant, that spiritual death came on man as the 
unavoidable consequence of violating a moral law, but not as 
the threatened punishment of the first transgression. 

1. Such is the nature of God, that his predictions must have 
their accomplishment. In him there is "no variableness, neither 
shadow of turning." He will not therefore threaten a punish- 
ment, to be inflicted in certain circumstances, and not inflict 
that punishment when the specified circumstances concur; 
neither will he threaten one punishment, and instead of that in- 
flict another. To Adam God said, " in the day thou eatest 
thereof, thou shalt surely die." Adam ate ; Adam died. The 
same death which God threatened, he inflicted. " Dust thou 
art," said God, " and unto dust shalt thou return." This is a 
plain explanation of the death denounced, as the punishment of 
transgression. The Justice of God immediately trod upon the 
heels of the transgressor. 

2. The nature and state of Adam were such, that it is by no 
means probable, that spiritual death was threatened him as the 
punishment of his disobedience. " Let the earth," said God, 
" bring forth the living creature." Gen. i. 24. " God formed 



* 



FUNERAL SERMON. 161 

man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into him the breath 
of life, and he became a Hving soul." Gen. ii. 7. The word 
translated creature in the first and soul in the last, of these 
passages, is the same in the original. Man became a living crea- 
ture ; the punishment of his transgression was, then, that he 
should become a dead creature. Adam did become a dead 
creature ; for the scripture says, that he lived " nine hundred 
and thirty-nine years, and he died." We are not informed that 
he died any other death, either before or after the breath of the 
Lord left his body. As he w^as created in the image of his 
Maker, he was happy in his existence. His paths were strewed 
with flowers. He rejoiced in the beauties of creation, and ex- 
ulted in the smiles of his God. It does not appear that he knew^ 
any distinction between soul and body, natural hfe and spiritual 
life. He knew simply that he was a being, a living being. 
Thus said Paul, " the first man Adam was made a living soul, or 
creature. He was just waked from the dust : he knew that he 
had existence ; he knew that he was happy in that existence. 
If he did not know these things, the wisdom of God would be 
greatly impeached in denouncing death as the punishment of 
transgression. The prospect, therefore, of losing existence 
would be a powerful incitement to obedience. The first Adam, 
the first living soul or creature was natural. So says Paul, "that 
was not first which is spiritual, but that which is natural." 
" The first man," or living soul, " was of the earth," and the 
sentence passed upon him was that he should revert to the 
earth. 

3. A threatening against Adam implying spiritual death, would* 
have contravened the ends to be attained by the infliction of 
punishment. These are either the reformation of the transgres- 
sor, the determent of others from the commission of crimes, or 
the satisfaction of justice. Spiritual death would be so far from 
reforming, that it would render the transgressor more disobedi- 
ent ; because the death consists in the influence of sin on the 
heart. Such a punishment, instead of satisfying, w^ould increase 
the demands of justice ; because as it would render the trans- 
gressor more sinful, it would render him more guilty. Such a 
punishment could not deter others from the commission of 
21 



\i4^ 



162 FUNERAL SERMON. 

crimes, because there were no others. If, then, neither of the 
ends of punishment could be attained by the infliction of spirit- 
ual death ; most surely a God of infinite wisdom never would 
have threatened that death as a punishment. 

4. The implication of spiritual death in the threatening, would 
have rendered the punishment perfectly agreeable to Adam, after 
his transgression.* A sinner chooses to be a sinner. He de- 
lights in alienation of heart from God, and " will not come to 
the light, lest bis deeds should be reproved." Had God threat- 
ened spiritual death, the sense of his threatening would have 
been thus : " If you sin, you shall be a sinner." This appears 
to make the unavoidable consequence, the arbitrary punishment 
of sin. 

5. Had spiritual death been implied in the punishment de- 
nounced against Adam, man's salvation, on the present consti- 
tution of redemption, could not have been effected. Man, by 
suffering spiritual death, could not satisfy divine justice, because 
the more he experienced that death, the more sinful would be 
his heart. 'Tis evident, that God must inflict the same punish- 
ment he threatens. Let Christ take the place of man ; let him 
be " made flesh ;" let him " bear our griefs, and carry our sor- 
rows ;" let him '' bear our sins in his own body on the tree ;" 
let him be '' made a curse for us ;" let him '' die, the just for the 
unjust." If Christ has undertaken to liberate man, it is evident 
he cannot do it, unless he satisfies God's justice, by suffering the 
threatened punishment. From the nature of spiritual death, it 
is clear that Christ could not suffer it. That death consists in 

* The learned and judicious Dr. WEST, of Stockbridge, with great proprie- 
ty observes, " That spiritual death, as the phrase is commonly used, means a 
person's being perfectly under the dominion and power of sin; or to express 
it in scripture language, being "dead in trespasses and sins;" which is the 
same as being wholly and totally a sinner. But this surely can with no pro- 
priety be considered as a curse upon the sinner. Sin is voluntary ; it is what 
is chosen by the sinner, and is not the curse itself, but that which exposes to it 
and incurs it. it would be strange, that for committing one sin, which must 
be a voluntary act, God should threaten the sinner with committing another, 
which must be equally voluntary; and make this the penalty of the former, 
the curse to be endured for it. At this rate, the penalties of the law could not 
possibly be any terror to the sinner." Scrip. Doc. of Atonement, p. 95- 



FUNERAI. SERMON. 

the influence of sin on the heart, in opposition to God. But 
Christ " knew no sin," he was so " holy, harmless, undefiled." 
He was not opposed to God, for he became " obedient unto 
death." Unto what death ? Not unto spiritual death, for that 
would have rendered him disobedient ; " but unto death, even 
the death of the cross." Phil. ii. 8. It appears, then, that Christ 
did not suffer spiritual death, and yet he has redeemed man ; 
for he " gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due 
time." 1 Tim. ii. 6. The passion of spiritual death, as it would 
have opposed Christ to the divine character and government ; so 
it would have created in him an entire disqualification for the 
procurement of redemption. 

6. The limitation of the punishment denounced against Adam 
to natural death, scatters light through the scriptures, and un- 
folds the doctrine of future rewards and punishments in a beau- 
tiful consistency with the resurrection of all men by Christ. 
The scriptures are full of this important idea, that Christ died 
for all men, and that by virtue of his resurrection all shall be 
raised to hfe. " We thus judge," says Paul, " that if one died 
for all, then were all dead." 2 Cor. v. 14. " As in Adam all 
die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." 1 Cor. xv. 21. 
" As by the offence of one, judgment came upon all men unto 
condemnation ; even so, by the righteousness of one, the free 
gift came upon all men unto justification of hfe." Rom. v. 18. 
Consider these texts as referring wholly to the death and resur- 
rection of mankind, the truth of the gospel then appears clear ; 
the apostle's argumentation is disembarrassed and determinate. 
What if the free gift has come upon all men, upon every one of 
the human race, unto justification of life ? Who objects ? "Who 
is he that condemneth ? It is Christ that died : yea, rather, that 
is risen again." God can now, consistently with his justice, free 
the prisoners of death. To effect this, he declared to be his 
determination. " I will ransom them from the power of the 
grave ; I will redeem them from death ! I will be thy plagues ; 
O grave ! I will be thy destruction." Hos. xiii. 14. Christ 
abolished the same death that was introduced by Adam. But 
the death introduced by Adam was natural. For, says Paul, 
opposing the resuscitation of the body, to the death which en- 



164 FUNEB-AL. SERMON. 

tered by original sin, " since by man came death, by man came 
also the resurrection of the dead." 1 Cor. xv. 21. Every one 
of the human race will be rescued from the dominion of the 
death denounced against Adam. Thus, says Christ, '' the hour 
is coming, in which all that are in the grave shall hear his voice 
and shall come forth." For what? for very different purposes. 
'' They that have done good, unto the resurrection of life ; and 
they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation." 
John V. 2S, 29. 

But if spiritual death was denounced and inflicted as a pun- 
ishment ; if Christ has abolished that death ; then none of the 
human race can come forth unto the resurrection of condemna- 
tion ; but all will be restored, not only to immortal existence, 
but to immortal happiness ; because every creature, as soon as 
spiritual death is abolished, is brought into the hberty of the 
gospel. He that was dead in trespasses and sins is now quick- 
ened and created anew in Christ Jesus. But as Christ did not suf- 
fer spiritual death, God abolishes that death w^here he pleases, 
without interfering with his justice ; because that death came as 
a consequence, and not as the threatened punishment of sin. 
All therefore wdio are freed from natural and spiritual death, 
will in a future state be happy ; those freed from natural death 
only will be miserable, because under the influence of sin, and 
in a state of opposition to God. They cannot impeach God as 
the author of their misery ; because this they endure not as a 
positive punishment, but as the unavoidable consequence of 
their sin. God is now glorified ; because he has freed all his 
creatures from every punishment which he threatened against 
them in Adam. The finally impenitent, as he will suflfer from 
his own voluntary wickedness, w^ill forever remain inexcusable, 
and experience the mortify irg effects of self-condemnation. 

From all these considerations we are induced to draw this 
conclusion, that natural death only was included in the punish- 
ment denounced against Adam.* From Paul's argumentation, 

* 1 Cor. XV. 22. "^ As in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made 
alive." These words made it evident that those made alive by Christ are 
as numerous as those subjected to death by Adam. Language cannot express 
this idea with more certainty. Those therefore who believe that the death 



FUNERAL SERMON. 165 

in the verses preceding our text, it is evident that Christ abol- 
ished the same death that Adam incurred. That death is 
styled the " last enemy." We are now prepared to show how 
this last enemy is destroyed. It is by the appearance, death 
and resurrection, of the Son of God in our nature, " who hath 
abolished death, and hath brought life and immortality to light." 
2 Tim. i. 10. " Forasmuch as the children are partakers of 
flesh and blood, he also himself hkewise took part of the same." 
For what ? '' that through death he might destroy him that hath 
the power of death." Heb. ii. 14. Human nature was guilty. 
How shall it be made innocent? It was condemned. How shall ,^,^^^Ji>. 
it be justified? It was subjected to the dominion of death. 
How shall it be emancipated ? That nature, by sin, was inca- 
pacitated to satisfy the demands of the law, under whose sen- 
tence it was held. Which way shall we look for salvation ? 
What can be done? How shall man be dehvered, and God be 
just ? The scripture points out the way through Jesus Christ. 
" The word was made flesh, and dwelt among us." John i. 14. 
But why was the word made flesh ? Why did he assume our 
nature ? That by obedience in that nature he might free it from 
death. '' For verily he took not on him the nature of angels, 
but the seed of Abraham." Heb. ii. 16. Had Christ taken upon 
him the nature of angels, he might have been the Saviour of 
angels, but not of men. Human nature was under the sentence 
of condemnation. Satisfaction therefore must be made in that 
nature to divine justice. The threatening of God must be suf- 
fered ; the precepts of his law must be obeyed ; or the sentence 
of death against man could not be reversed. In Christ we 
behold human nature qualified to obey and to suffer ; to obey 
because rendered innocent ; to suffer, because united with di~ 
vinity. W~e behold Christ entering the world in that 
nature, obeying in that nature, dying in that nature, rising 
in that nature, justified, sanctified, glorified ; triumphing 
over principahties, " leading captivity captive," ascending- 
on high, and sitting down forever at " the right hand of the 

introduced by Adam, was temporal, spiritual, and eternal, if Ihey would be 
consistent, ought to believe in universal salvation. For Christ has abolished' 
from all, the death produced by Adam. Note the particularity of this expres- 
sion, " even so — in Christ shall all be made alive." 



166 FUNERAL SERMON. 

throne of God." " God was manifest in the flesh, justified in 
the spirit, seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles, believed 
on in the world, received up into glory." 1 Tim. iii. 16. He is 
now become the " first fruits of them that slept." His resur- 
rection estabhshed and insured the resurrection of all mankind. 
^'For," says Paul, " if the dead rise not, then is not Christ 
raised." 1 Cor. xv. 16. '' But now is Christ risen from the 
dead." '' In Christ shall all be made aUve." 1 Cor. xv. 20, 22. 
Christ said to his disciples, '' yet a Uttle while, and the world 
seeth me no more, but ye see me ; because I live, ye shall five 
also." John xiv. 19. Paul speaks of death as though it had 
penetrated the whole creation. '' For we know that the whole 
creation groaneth and travaileth in pain until now." Rom. viii. 
22. Christ's death was felt through all his works. In that 
awful moment when he expired on Calvary's top, death felt the 
mortal wound, and gave one struggle for dominion through the 
works of nature. Then did the earth shake terribly ; then did 
the rocks rend ; then did the mountains move ; then did the af- 
frighted sun shrink from his suffering God, and veil his face 
in darkness. The bands of death were loosened ; " the graves 
were opened ;" the sleeping bodies felt their liberty, and started 
into fife. ^' O death where is thy sting ?" Destroyed forever. 
" Sing, O heavens ! and be joyful, O earth ! and break forth 
into singing, O mountains !" Let the wilderness rejoice, let the 
inhabitants of the rock sing, let " all the trees of the plain clap 
their hands." Death is destroyed. '' This is the Lord's doing 
and it is marvellous in our eyes." The way of fife is now clear. 
The clouds are dispersed ; and the glories of redemption burst 
upon us in their full splendor. The last enemy shall be de- 
stroyed. But, 

III. What are the consequences of his destruction ? 

1. The malice of Satan will revert upon his own head; 
his fraudulent designs against man's happiness will terminate in 
the glory of God. The old serpent, subtil, envious, revengeful, 
thought to dishonor God's government, in seducing man to re- 
bellion, and in subjecting him to mortality. But immediately 
" the seed" was revealed, that should '' bruise the serpent's 



FUNERAL SERMON. 



167 



head ;" that should counteract and frustrate all his evil machi- 
nations. '' For this purpose was the Son of God manifested, 
that he might destroy the works of the devil." 1 John iii. 8. 
Christ assumed our nature, '' that, through death, he might de- 
stroy him that had the power of death, that is the devil." Heb. 
ii. 14. Satan undoubtedly supposed he had defeated the gra- 
cious designs of Heaven for man's redemption, by effecting the 
crucifixion of Christ. But even in his last effort, his malicious 
schemes turned to his own destruction. Christ's death destroyed 
death. It gave Satan his mortal wound. It began to dig that 
mine which is rapidly advancing under his kingdom, and which 
will finally ingulph it in ruin. 

Another important consequence of the destruction of the last 
enemy is, the restoration of the dead to immortality. " The 
hour is coming, when all that are in the graves, shall hear his 
voice, and shall come forth." Paul, speaking of the resurrec- 
tion of the dead, says, '^ it is sown in corruption, it is raised in 
incorruption ; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory ; it is 
sown in weakness, it is raised in power ; it is sown a natural 
body, it is raised a spiritual body." '' This corruptible, must 
put on incorruption ; and this mortal must put on immortahty." 
^' Then shall be brought to pass the saying, death is swallowed 
up in victory." 1 Cor. 42, &c. " Life and immortality are 
brought to fight." The vale that was planted with terrors, and 
overhung with awful shades, now smiles in beauty, and beams 
with light. A flood of glory bursts from the Son of righteous- 
ness, shines through the wastes of death, and discovers man re- 
stored from ruin ; rejoicing in life, and dressed in the robes of 
immortahty. Now we may rejoice ; now we may triumph. 
Death, thou art destroyed. "Where is thy sting? Grave ! where 
is thy victory ?" Death ! thy dart is broken ; thy sceptre is 
wrenched from thy hand ; thy paie throne totters ; it sinks be- 
neath thee ! Rejoice, O man ! victory is thine, through the dy- 
ing Saviour. Look forward, view thy future self, how changed 
from this imperfect state ; beyond the reach of death ! Rejoice 
in that period, when the voice of God shall sound through the 
universe, and set the prisoners free. 



168 FUNERAL SERMON. 

Thus it appears, that though death is our enemy, our last and 
most formidable enemy, yet, he " shall be destroyed." 

Will not this consideration afford us consolation for the loss of 
our worthy friend, whose death we this day lament ? Him the 
last week lodged in the still house of death. But though he is 
dead, yet shall he live . For his enemy, his last enemy, shall 
be destroyed. Death may be considered as an enemy, not only 
to those who experience his agonies, but to those who survive. 

To the mourning widow, the loss of Dr. Manning must be 
deeply affecting. The kind, the indulgent husband, snatched 
unexpectedly from the midst of life, and health, and usefulness ; 
torn from her bosom ; — he, her other half, the partner of her 
joys, the reliever of her sorrows, is now wrapped in the cold 
ground. Farewell, my friend : But must thou go ? — O, my 
God, to thee, to thee, I yield ! " O that my head were waters, 
and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and 
night." ^' The last enemy shall be destroyed." Cease to weep. 
^^ Behold the upright, for his end is peace." 

The absent relatives will sensibly feel the loss of their friend 
and brother. In both these capacities, he sustained an amiable 
character. As a brother, he was loving and affectionate ; as a 
friend, he was constant and sincere. But his kind offices will 
no more be experienced. Cold, silent he lodges in dust. His 
enemy is now victorious. But " thanks be to God who will give 
man the victory." 

The death of our friend has intimately affected the interests 
of the College in this place. It has drawn the veil of sorrow 
over her windows, and hung her walls with sable w^eeds. A 
melancholy silence reigns through all her mansions, save when 
the plaintive voice of woe is heard at midnight. That seat of 
learning was the child of our departed friend. It lay near his 
hoart. His friends, the corporation, most sincerely lament their 
loss. God has of late called to you ; once and again — and 
again.* Thrice has the pale foot of death stepped down among 
your number ; thrice has his voice penetrated your ears : ^' Be 

* Referring to the death of John Jenckes, and Nicholas Brown, Esquires, 
which preceded Dr. Manning's. 



FUNERAL SERMON. 169 

ye also ready." Though you suffer loss, yet ascribe thanks to 
him, '^ that was dead, and is alive, and lives forever." 

The immediate officers of instruction disburden their grief, 
and drop the friendly tear. Their faithful assistant in the labors 
of science is no more. But though he is a prisoner of the tomb, 
yet he shall be brought into the " liberty of the children of 
God." " For the last enemy shall be destroyed." ^^ 

The students perhaps at present suffer the heaviest loss. To 
you death has come near in his late approach. He has taken 
away your literary guide and parent. Will not the love you 
bore him stamp his memory on your hearts ? Will not the recol- 
lection of his friendship gush the tear of affectionate sorrow, and 
sprinkle it on his tomb ? Call to mind his anxious solicitude 
for your welfare ; call to mind his readiness to accelerate your 
progress in the paths of science. Treasure up his wise instruc- 
tions. As he was once young like yourselves, as he had trod 
the paths before you, he was qualified to give the best advice. 
Experience had taught him the difficulties you have to encount- 
er, and the dangers to which you are exposed. Often did he, 
w^ith all the affection of a parent, recommend an unwearied ap- 
plication to your hterary pursuits. Often did he dissuade you 
from vice. How earnestly did he beg you to fly from it, as 
from a most deadly enemy ? How often did he urge you to 
maintain a fair moral character ? How frequently did his fer- 
vent soul, for your prosperity, rise on the wings of prayer to the 
throne of mercy ? If you will do justice to yourselves, if you 
will do justice to the kind endeavors of your parents, you will 
regard the advice of your worthy President. Let it sink'deep 
into your hearts, let it regulate your future conduct. The 
present, with you, is an important period. Your characters are 
now forming for future hfe. You know that vice and indolence 
will make you miserable ; that virtue and industry w^ill make 
you happy. Your usefulness and respectibility in future life 
depend very much on your personal exertions. Lose not one 
of your golden moments. But amidst all your acquisitions "get 
understanding." " Seek first the kingdom of God : and his 
righteousness, and all other things shall be added." " Remem- 
ber now your Creator in the days of your youth." E.eligion and 
22 



170 FUNERAL SERMON. 

virtue will add the lustre to all your literary acquirements. "Seek 
the Lord wluie he may be found, call upon him while he is 
near;" while he comes near to you by the solemn voice of 
death. Improve this mournful scene of mortality to your own 
advantage. Be wise, be happy. 

The attentive gravity of this church and congregation, 
evinces that they sensibly feel the stroke of that enemy that has 
laid their friend in dust. He has been " a light to your feet ;" 
he has been " a lamp to your path." To you he has been a 
guide to the road of life. Often did he come to you " in the 
fulness of the blessing of the gospel of Christ." Oft did his 
tongue announce to you " glad tidings of great joy." But, 
alas ! it is now silent forever. This church and people lay near 
his heart. Those of you who have been brought to the knowl- 
edge of the truth, under his ministry, must, on the present 
mournful occasion, be deeply affected. You have lost a father 
indeed. In his last affectionate address to you from this place, 
when he bade you farewell, when he expressed the improba- 
bility of his ever preaching to you again, you could not re- 
strain your tears. Sorrow indeed must now fill your hearts, 
because his face will no more be seen in the land of the living. 
Remember that God gave, and that God took away. Hear his 
voice — '' Be still, and know that I am GOD." 

The loss of this worthy man will bo felt by the community at 
large. He moved in an extensive sphere. He was equally 
known in the religious, the political and literary world. As his 
connexions were extensive and important, his loss must be pro- 
portionably great. Asa man, he was kind, humane and benevo- 
lent. As he was sociable, as he was communicative, he seemed 
rather designed for the theatre of action than for the shades of 
retirement. Though nature had given him distinguished abih- 
ties, yet the peculiarity of his constitution, and the varied scene 
of his life, prevented that intense application to study, which 
generally renders men eminent in the republic of letters. His 
life was a scene of anxious labor for the benefit of others. His 
piety and fervent zeal in preaching the gospel of Christ, evinced 
his love to his God and to his fellow men. His eloquence was 
forcible and spontaneous. To every one who heard him, under 



FUNERAL SERMON. 171 

the peculiar circumstances in which he appeared in this place, 
it was evident that the resources of his mind were exceedingly 
great. The amiableness of his disposition was recommended 
by a dignified and majestic appearance. His address was manly, 
familiar and engaging. His manner was easy without negli- 
gence, and polite without affectation. In the College over which 
he presided, his government was mild and peaceful ; conducted 
by that persuasive authority, which secures obedience while it 
concihates esteem. As he lived much beloved, he died much 
lamented. Well may we say, that '' a great man is fallen." O 
how is the amiable, the worthy, the benevolent, fallen ! Though 
fallen, yet shall he rise ; for his ''last enemy shall be destroyed."^ 
" The Lord himself shall descend from Heaven with a shout, 
and with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God, 
and the dead in Christ shall rise." Then shall the man be de- 
hvered from the "bondage of corruption," to ''shine like the 
sun in the firmament." Cease to mourn, dry up your tears ; sub- 
mit to Him " which is, and which was, and which is to come, 
the Almighty ;" submit to Him who is " the first begotten of 
the dead, the prince of ihe kings of the earth, who loved us, 
and washed us from our sins in his own blood ;" to Him let U3 
ascribe '* glory and dominion for ever and ever." 



A 

SERMON 

DELIVERED IN THE 

BAPTIST MEETING HOUSE IN 
PROVIDENCE, 

ON LORD'S DAY AFTERNOON, OCT., 14, 1798, 

OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF 

WELCOME ARNOLD, ESQ., 

ONE OF THE TRUSTEES OF RHODE-ISLAND COLLEGE, AND MEMBER OF THE GEN- 
ERAL ASSEMBLY OF THIS STATE, WHO DEPARTED THIS LIFE SEPTEM- 
BER 29, 1798, IN THE 54th year of his age. 



TO THE 

SURVIVING AFFLICTED WIDOW 
AND CHILDREN OF 
WELCOME ARNOLD, ESQ., 

The following Sermon is inscribed, with the sincerest 
desires for their present and future happiness, by their 
friend and very humble servant, 

THE AUTHOR. 



A SERMON. 



IT IS 50WX IN CORRUPTIOX, IT IS RAISED IX IXCORRUPTfON ; IT T&'^OWX 
IN T)[SMOXOR, IT IS RAISED IN GLORY; IT IS SOWN IN WEAKNESS, IT IS 
RAISED IN POWER; IT IS SOWN A NATURAL BODF, IT IS RAISED A SPIR- 
ITUAL BODY. 1 COR. XV. 42, 43, 44. 

The love of existence,* and the desire of knowing futurity, 
may be ranked among the strongest propensities of the human 
heart. The first of these, is repressed by death, the last is en- 
couraged by the prospect of a resurrection. So great is our 
attachment to happiness, and so great our aversion to misery, 
that whatever discloses to us our future state, cannot but be 
highly interesting and important. We must therefore feel pe- 
culiarly indebted to our beneficent Creator, for assuring us of 
the resurrection of our bodies. The language of the Saviour 
was, •'•' the hour is coming, in the which all that are in the graves 
shall hear his voice, and shall come forth." He who was caught 
up into the third heaven said, •'• the trump shall sound, and the 
dead shall be raised." John, when he beheld in vision the re- 
surrection, said, '• I saw the dead, small and great, stand before 
God — and the sea gave up the dead that were in it ; and death 
and hades delivered up the dead which were in them." But 
our inquiries may perhaps extend farther than m.irely to ascer- 
tain the fact of the resurrection of the dead. We may be dis- 
posed to ask, as some did in the Corinthian church, " how are 
the dead raised ? and with what body do they come ?" These 
questions imply a desire to know the manner in which the re- 
surrection should be effected. They also imply a disposition to 




176 FUNERAL SERMON. 

doubt the resurrection, unless the persons who proposed them 
should have their inquisitive curiosity fully gratified. This is 
the reason why the Apostle rephes with severity, and says, 
" thou fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened, except it 
die. And that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body 
that shall be, but bare grain ; it may chance of wheat or some 
other grain ; but God giveth it a body as it hath pleased him, 
and to every seed his own body." The Apostle in these words 
reproves the unreasonableness of those who are disposed to 
doubt or deny a fact, merely because they cannot comprehend 
the manner in which it is accomplished. He intimates that 
there is nothing more mysterious or unintelligible in the resur- 
rection of the body, than there is in the germination of a grain 
of wheat. This, when cast into the earth, will neither spring 
nor grow, unless it dies. But who can tell how the death of 
that which is sown, is essential to the hfe and growth of that 
which springs up ? That this is the case we cannot deny, 
though the manner in which the fact is accomplished is entirely 
beyond our comprehension. When* the bare grain is sown in 
the earth, the future body of that grain is not sown. The grain 
dies, the principle of life ascends, and God clothes it with such 
a body as he pleases. The Apostle proceeds to show that there 
will be different grades of people in the resurrection, and that 
then there will be as great a diversity in the bodies and appear- 
ances of men as there is in the present state. These ideas are 
implied in the following words. " All flesh is not the same 
flesh ; there is one kind of flesh of men, another of beasts, an- 
other of fishes, and another of birds. There are also celestial 
bodies, and bodies terrestial. The glory of the celestrial is one, 
and the glory of the terrestrial is another. There is one glory 
of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another of the 
stars ; for as one star differeth from another star in glory, so also 
is the resurrection of the dead." But though there will be in 
the world of the resurrection such a diversity in the bodies of 
men, yet there are certain circumstances in which they will all 
agree. These are expressed in our text. ^' It (body) is sown 
in corruption, it is raised in incorruption ; it is sown in dishonor 



FUNERAL SERMON. 177 

it is raised in glory ; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in pow- 
er ; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body." 

1. The body is said to be sown in corruption. This expres- 
sion includes the whole state of man, from his first formation till 
the morning of his resurrection. For there is a contrast kept 
up through the text, between man's mortal and immortal state. 
Man, like all animated nature, is subjected to the great law of 
corruptibility. The condition of things is such, in this world, 
that wherever there is life, there must be death. When we con- 
sider the constant tendency of animal substance to putrefaction, 
and the numerous external and internal causes which may in- 
duce it, we are astonished that men should continue so long in 
life as they do. What preserves us one moment from experi- 
encing the effects of corruptibihty, we cannot tell, unless it is 
the immediate and constant agency of God. For all the animal 
and vegetable substances we consume for the support of life, 
would afford us no nourishment, unless they would dissolve by 
putrefaction. It is from this that we derive our life ; and yet 
as soon as it attacks our constitution we change into the same, 
we die and turn to dust. The inspired Apostle was so sensible 
of the corruptible state of man's body, that he used the emphat- 
ical expression in the text, ''it is sown in corruption," as if it 
was buried in it. It does not appear that when man was in in- 
nocency, he was exempt from corruption, any farther than by 
the supernatural bounty of God. Adam, when placed in Para- 
dise, had access to the tree of life. By means of this he might 
perpetuate his constitution in health and vigor. Man never had 
any other kind of immortality in this world ; for, considered as 
an animal, he must die, unless the decays and diseases of his 
nature were remedied by the tree of life. By disobedience to 
the command of God, Adam subjected himself and all his pos- 
terity to death. When excluded the garden, he beheld the 
flaming sword guarding the way of the tree of life. What must 
have been his consternation to feel the attacks of disease, with- 
out having access to the tree of Ufe ! Alas ! he must sink into 
the shadow of death, and be "sown in corruption." Thus 
death entered the world, and ever since has been executing his 
dread commission, and burying the human race in ruin. But 
23 



ITS FUNERAL SERMON. 

shall man forever be the prey of all-devouring death ? Shall his 
body be forever lost in the grave ? Surely not, for though it is 
sown in corruption, our text assures us — 

2. " it is^ raised in incorruption." A state of incorruptibility 
is so different from the present, that we can form but an imper- 
fect idea of it. We can scarcely conceive how bodies can sub- 
sist, in the utmost vigor and activity, without the aid of nourish- 
ment. And yet, in the world of the resurrection, this will 
certainly be the case ; for there we shall be as the angels of God. 
For this corruptible must put on incorruption ; and this mortal 
must put on immortahty. So then shall be brought to pass the 
saying, as it is written, '' death is swallowed up in victory." If 
we shall have obtained a complete victory over death, we shall 
be free from disease and pain. These are his attendants, and 
these must fall, when the king is dethroned and buried in ruin. 
The bodies of the righteous and the wicked will be raised in the 
same manner, and alike be incorruptible and immortal. Their 
difference, as to happiness and misery, will result wholly from 
the moral state of their minds. Christ said of the righteous, 
that they should shine Kke the sun in the kingdom of their Fath- 
er. With what extasy will they triumph, when they look back 
over the vast chasm of ruin which yawns from the walls of Eden 
to the barriers of eternity ; w^hen they feel immortal vigor spring- 
ing within them, and behold immortal youth blooming in every 
face ! May they not with propriety exclaim, O 1 death, where is 
thy sting ? O ! grave, where is thy victory ? 

3. The next trait in the state of man, as to his body, is, that 
"it is sown in dishonor." — This was not the state of man when 
he came from the forming hand of the Almighty. He was 
made in the image of God ; he held dominion over the beasts 
of the field, the fowls of the air, and the fishes of the sea. The 
Psalmist, addressing God, says, concerning man, " thou hast 
made him a little low^er than the angels, and hast crowned him 
with glory and honor." But alas ! man being in honor, abode 
not ! He fell into disgrace by revolting against his Maker. As 
soon as he lost the honor in which he was formed, the whole ani- 
mated world shunned his society, and refused to submit to his 
dominion. He was surrounded with enemies, and liable to dis- 



FUNERAL SERMON, 179 

solution. The completion of his disgrace was death ; for God 
said to him, " dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return." 
This is the sentence executed on the criminal. Thus man is 
" sown in dishonor." But let us not dwell on the dark side of 
the picture. The text assures us, that — 

4. '^ He is raised in glory." — Man, by his fall from primitive 
rectitude, appeared to dishonor God, his Creator. His body, by 
its liabihty to pain, disease and death, appeared unworthy the 
great Builder of the universe. But how wonderfully will God's 
glory appear, when his voice shall call to the sleeping millions • 
when they shall rise from their graves free from corruption, vig- 
orous and immortal ? Will not here be a greater manifestation 
of divine power, than in the creation of a thousand inanimate 
worlds ? But though the resurrection of all will display the 
glory of God, yet that of behevers in a more peculiar manner, 
and in a higher degree. For they will be fashioned like to Christ's 
glorious body ! " When Christ, who is their life, shall appear, 
then shall they also appear with him in glory." They will be 
clothed in the brightness of the sun, and sit with Christ in his 
kingdom. Thus they will be raised in glory. 

5. In the next place, the text says, concerning the body, ^- it 
is sown in weakness." — No animal is brought into the world in 
so feeble and helpless a condition as man. He possesses neith- 
er the power nor means of subsistence. The preservation of 
his life requires the perpetual assiduity of others. " At his best 
estate he is altogether vanity." A breath of air, a spark of fire, the 
falling of a tile, may destroy his grandeur, and lodge him in the 
grave. When he sinks into death, he is helpless as a clod of 
earth, and a worm becomes his master. But the body will not 
always remain in this state ; for — 

6. " It is raised in power." — Angels are represented as exalt- 
ed beings, and excelling in might. The Saviour said, concerning 
those who should obtain the resurrection, " they are equal unto 
the angels, and are the children of God, being the children of 
the resurrection." Their nerves will be strung with unfailing 
vigor : weakness and disease can never reach them : eternity 
itself cannot weary their utmost exertions in the service of God. 
When the dead shall rise, all nature will feel the power of God, 



180 FUNERAL SERMON. 

The skies will burst asunder : the heavens will be wrapped in 
flames, and the elements will melt : the archangel's voice wall 
shake the pillars of the universe : all is in commotion : heaven 
bends from above, earth trembles from beneath : the tombs burst, 
" the charnel houses rattle :" the graves open : the tenants of 
death start from their bondage, and spring into life : the Son of 
Man comes in a cloud, with power and great glory, to judge the 
nations. Such are the effects of Omnipotence, when the body 
of man is raised in power. 

7. '' It is also sown a natural body ;" that is, an animal body ; 
a body formed of perishable materials, and liable to corruption 
and dissolution. Man, according to the Apostle Paul, consists 
of three parts, body, soul and spirit. Thus he says to the Thes- 
salonians, " I pray your whole spirit, and soul, and body, be 
preserved blameless." By the body, we are to understand the 
external material form ; by the soul, the rational faculty ; and 
by the spirit, the principle of sensation which pervades every 
part of man, unites his soul and body, conveys knowledge to 
the former, and energy to the latter. This spirit is the medium 
through which the soul converses with the external world. It 
sees in the eye, hears in the ear, smells in the nostrils, tastes in 
the mouth, and fills us all over with sensibility. Brutes partake 
of this spirit as well as man. It may properly be styled the sen- 
sitive soul, in opposition to the rational soul which distinguishes 
man from brutes, and gives him his chief pre-eminence. This 
distinction on which I am insisting will explain that passage of 
Solomon, in which he represents the spirit of a man, when he 
dies, as going upward, and the spirit of a beast as going down- 
ward. This distinction also will show us precisely, what part 
of man is lodged in the grave. The spirit, or sensitive soul of 
man goes upward and lives, because it is indissolubly connected 
with the rational soul, which is immortal. Thus the sensitive 
soul serves as a vehicle for the rational, and probably furnishes 
it with materials of knowledge in the other world, as well as in 
this. Thus when man dies, he is sown a natural body only ; 
for his other parts ascend and live forever. But the body though 
it is dissolved, is not lost ; for it, 

8. " Is raised a spiritual body." By this we are not to un- 



FUNERAL SERMON. 181 

derstand that the body, at the resurrection, will be changed into 
the nature of spirits, because in this case it could not properly 
be called a body ; for Christ said, a spirit hath not flesh and 
bones. These we shall still have after the resurrection, in the 
same manner as Christ had after his resurrection. Our bodies 
will be raised spiritual, because they will not then be supported 
by natural aids, as animal bodies are, but will be as the angels, 
as to the manner of existence, pure, subtil, undecaying, and in- 
corruptible. This state, in the sublime language of inspiration, 
is styled " the glorious liberty of the children of God." This 
state belongs exclusively to those who die in the faith of the 
gospel. Glorious state indeed, in which those who once w-ere 
victims to the meanest worm, shall stand on an equality with 
angels ! Language fails to describe the glory of the resurrection 
world. I will hazard the assertion, that there is not a person in 
this assembly who would not exchange the w^hole material uni- 
verse, for a bodily constitution not liable to disease, to pain, to 
decay or inactivity. Who is there who would not be willing 
to die, and lodge in the earth thousands and millions of years, 
could he be assured of a happy resurrection in an incorruptible 
body, filled with celestial life, and blooming in immortal youth ? 
One year of enjoyment in such a state, will outweigh thousands 
in this. The Apostle Paul has reference to this state when he 
styles its enjoyment '^an eternal weight of glory." This weight 
of glory is the prize which the gospel hangs out to e\eYy son 
and daughter of Adam ! How ought it to excite our ambition, 
that we may obtain the happy resurrection, and become chil- 
dren of God ! From the preceding account of the mortal and 
immortal state of man, I beg leave to observe, 

1. That death is not the means of destroying, but of improv- 
ing our existence. For surely if we are sown in corruption, and 
raised in incorruption ; if w^e are sown in dishonor, and raised 
in glory ; if w^e are sown in weakness, and raised in power ; if 
w^e are sown natural bodies, and raised spiritual ; our last state 
is manifesdy better than our first. The Apostle says, " flesh and 
blood cannot inherit the kindom of God." Our bodies in their 
present state are by no means fitted for the enjoyments of that 
blissful mansion. Death takes down these polluted tabernacles. 



182 FUNERAL SERMON. 

and the holy hand of Omnipotence rebuilds them. In the pres- 
ent world we bear the mutilated image of the earthy Adam ; in 
the future we shall bear the perfect image of the heavenly. 
'' For as is the earthy, such are they also that are earthy ; and as 
is the heavenly, such are they also that are heavenly." " The 
first man is of the earth, earthy ; the second man is the Lord 
from heaven." How much better to be like Christ than to be 
like fallen man ! How anxious ought we to be, that we may not, 
through unbehef and sin, fail of the resurrection of the sons of 
God ! If we believe in Christ, he is our life ; and when he ap- 
pears, we shall also appear with him in glory. ^' For the Lord 
himself shall descend with a shout, with the voice of the arch- 
angel, and the trump of God ; and the dead in Christ shall rise 
first, and ever dwell with the Lord." 

2. I observe, in the next place, that if we gain so much by 
the resurrection, we ought to be satisfied with the divine provi- 
dence concerning death. This dispensation, considered in a de- 
tached point of view, appears gloomy, and productive of no good 
consequences. But if we consider its connexion with the fall 
and restoration of man, and the glory of God arising from them, 
it will appear to be a wise and good appointment. This consid- 
eration may tend to alleviate the sorrows of those who mourn on 
the present occasion. You, my much respected friends, have 
been unexpectedly deprived of your nearest and most beloved 
earthly connexion. In him you lost an affectionate husband, a 
kind and indulgent parent. The public sensibly feels your loss, 
as well as its own, and shares in your grief. For support in 
your affliction, permit me to direct your attention to the great 
Disposer of all events. He can do no wrong to his creatures ; 
for he is perfectly wise and good. If he subjects us to death, 
it is on account of sin, and that through the merits of his Son, 
he may raise us to a more glorious state. In this dark world 
you can have but an imperfect view of the divine economy. We 
see but in part, and we know but in part. This consideration 
shows the necessity of reposing confidence in God, and resign- 
ing ourselves to his disposal. May he who has taken away your 
friend, make up your loss, by the friendship of himself: guide 
you through life, and crown you with immortal glory, in that 



FUNERAL SERMON. 1S3 

kingdom where tears shall be wiped from every eye, and God 
shall dwell in every heart. 

3. I observe, in the next place, that since we are subjected to 
the law of mortality, the highest motives of duty, interest and 
happiness, urge us to a preparation for death, that our resurrec- 
tion may be glorious and happy. To obtain this, it is essential 
that we entertain sincere sorrow for our sins ; that we possess 
real evangelical faith in Christ, and adorn our conduct with all 
the virtues of a holy life. For if we remain impenitent, unbe- 
lieving and immoral, we remain opposed to God, we reject that 
as falsehood which he declares to be truth, and attach to our- 
selves the characters of those who cannot inherit his kingdom. 
Dying in such a state, we must be miserable, and our resurrec- 
tion that of condemnation. We should possess all that anxiety 
which distinguished the Apostle Paul, when he said he was 
made conformable unto Christ's death, " if by any means he 
might attain unto the resurrection of the dead." To us the 
possession of life is utterly uncertain. He whose unexpected 
departure we now lament, was but a few days since, in the vig- 
our of hfe and activity, pursuing the business of this world with 
the most enterprizing energy, adding nerves to society and gov- 
ernment, and fining with high reputation offices of pubhc trust. 
But alas ! his days were numbered, and he yielded to the sol- 
emn mandate of heaven. Let us, my friends, hear the voice of 
this alarming visitation, crying to us, " be ye also ready." Let 
us not delude ourselves, by imagining that any thing here on 
earth can screen us from the dart which flies from the king of 
terrors. We may exult in the morning of hfe ; we may triumph 
in the vigor of manhood ; we may enjoy the most liberal en- 
dowments of nature ; we may protract our age, till our locks are 
whitened with the blossoms of eternity ; yet still we must sub- 
mit to the solemn empire of death. The sentence has proceed- 
ed from the hps of the Almighty, and cannot return. Such is 
our just but awful destiny. We are the appointed heirs of sor- 
row, pain and dissolution. Every moment brings us nearer the 
land of death and silence. Thither we shall soon arrive, and 
mingle our dust in undistinguished ruin. The blooming infant, 
the active youth, the valiant man, the father of other days, the 



134 FUNERAL SERMON. 

sage, the hero, the monarch and the Christian ; all these must 
resort to the universal rendezvous of animated being. There 
the slave will forget his chain, and the master his empire. The 
monarch will there lose his grandeur, and the subject his fear. 
There all the anxieties and endearments of life will cease. The 
husband will no more remember the partner of his joys, nor the 
wife the babe that moulders at her side. All that is great, allur- 
ing and splendid in hfe, must be exchanged for the solitary house 
of death. Let us then be excited to prepare for that solemn 
period, in which we must launch into the vast ocean of eternity I 
God is visiting our country with the most distressing calamities. 
In some of our populous cities we behold the most dreadful pes- 
tilence devouring thousands. The angel of destruction is com- 
missioned to chastise us for our sins. He swings his enormous 
scythe and mows down a vast harvest of mortahty. A kind 
providence has hitherto spared us, and surrounded us with the 
bounties of prosperity. This distinguishing goodness calls 
aloud for our gratitude and love. God warns us by his judg- 
ments, and visits us with his mercies. If he calls to us, and we 
refuse, will he not "laugh at our calamity, and mock when our 
fear cometh ?" Let us work while it is day, remembering that 
" the night cometh, in which no man can work." May we all 
be enabled, by divine grace, to obtain the resurrection of the 
just, that at the great consummation of all things, we may shine 
hke the sun in the kingdom of our Father. Amen. 




REASON OF THE CHRISTIAN'S TRIUMPH. 

A 

SERMON 

DELIVERED IN THE 

BAPTIST MEETING-HOUSE IN PROVIDENCE, 

ON 

LORD'S DAY AFTERNOON, DECEMBER 14, 1800. 

OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF 

MRS. MARY GANO, 

CONSORT OF THE 

REV. STEPHEN GANO. 



24 



A FUNERAL SERMON, 



O DEATH, WHERE IS THY STING? O GRAVE, WHERE IS THY VICTORY? 
1 Corinthians, xv. 55. 

The occasion on which I am called to address this crowded 
assembly, is truly solemn and impressive. It tells us that we 
are travelling on to the silent grave and to the tremendous bar 
of God. We behold our own destiny in the example of others. 
Millions before us have descended into the gloomy valley, and 
have exhibited in mouldering ruin all that could promise health, 
enjoyment and life. In the view of this awful prospect, let us 
not remain inattentive and unaifected. We are all implicated 
in the great allotment of mortality. We are not all unconc:?rn- 
ed spectators. We are not solitary, independent individuals, 
but part of one great whole, whose origin, progress and end, 
are fixed by infinite wisdom. The voice of the tomb, wiih a 
chilling sound, assails our ears. The angel of destruction, dark 
as midnight, and swift as a whirlwind, may soon strike our 
names from the list of life, and inscribe them in the vast ma- 
jority of death. Such being our state and our portion, where 
shall we look for help ? From whom shall we derive consolation 
and support ? Shall we not look to him who declared '' I am the 
resurrection and the life," " who hath abolished death, and 
brought life and immortality to light by the gospel ?" It is by 
knowing him in the power of his resurrection, it is by receiv- 



188 



FUNERAL SEHMON. 



r 



ing his testimony, it is by obeying his commands, that we 
can rise above the infirmity of our reason and our senses, 
and possess a hope full of ardor, full of immortality. He who 
has fled for refuge to the Saviour, who has really believed in 
him according to the scriptures, can view death as a vanquished 
enemy. In trouble and affliction, his soul rises above the ordi- 
nary efforts of humanity. He views the destruction of death as 
the end of all his sins and sorrow. He stands aloft on the 
mountain of God, and with a confidence which no danger can 
shake, and an extacy whicIT no language can express, exclaims, 
" O death, where is thy sting ? O grave, where is thy vic- 
tory ?" 

From these words I shall explain the reasons of the Christian's 
triumph over sin and death. 

I. He has evidence that he is liberated from the reigning 
power of sin. 

The scriptures represent the unregenerate to be in a state of 
servitude, wholly governed by the principle of evil. " There is 
none righteous ; no, not one ; there is none that understandeth ; 
there is none that seeketh after God. They are all gone out of 
the way ; they are together become unprofitable ; there is none 
that doeth good ; no, not one." Christ said, ''Whosoever com- 
mitteth sin, is the servant of sin." Every thought of the ima- 
gination of man's heart was pronounced by God to be evil con- 
tinually. '' The heart of the wicked is fully set in him to do 
evil." The Apostle John says, '' The whole world lieth in 
wickedness." The prevalence of evil in the heart of men, is 
represented in scripture as a kingdom, as a dominion, as a tyr- 
anny. Hence the Apostle Paul speaks of sin ''as reigning unto 
death." To those, therefore, who continue in a state of nature, 
there is no hope of salvation, and no cause of triumph. They 
are liable to receive the " wages of sin, which is death." It is 
the excellency of the gospel, that it brings a principle of spiritual 
life into the souls of men, deUvering them from the bondage of 
sin, and inspiring them with hopes of future fehcity. To this 
Christ had immediate respect, when he said, " If the Son make 
you free, ye shall be free indeed." To the same transit from the 



FUNERAL SERMON. 189 

bondage of sin Paul had reference, when he addressed the 
Ephesians ; " You hath lie quickened, who were dead in tres- 
passes and sins." He declares that " they were by nature the 
children of wrath, even as others ;" and adds, " But God, who 
is rich in mercy — even when Ave were dead in sins, hath quick- 
ened us together with Christ — for we are his workmanship, 
created in Christ Jesus unto good works." To the same pur- 
pose he says to the Corinthians, " If any man be in Christ, he is 
a new creature." " The real Christian therefore is one who has 
experienced a renovation of heart ; who has the witness in 
himself; who knows in whom he has believed; and rejoices, 
that because Christ " lives, he shall live also." He realizes what 
the Apostle Paul said to the Romans, " The Spirit itself beareth 
witness with our spirit, that we ar€ the children of God ; and if 
children, then heirs, heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ ; 
if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified 
together." The believer has abundant reason to triumph over 
death and sin, because he feels the power of Christ in his heart ; 
and has assurance, by the earnest of the Spirit, that he shall be 
delivered from the bondage of corruption, and no more " be 
brought into captivity to th€ law of sin." He considers natural 
death as a wise and necessary appointment in the divine econo- 
my. He considers the second death as the just punishment of 
sin, and is assured, that " on him, that death shall have no pow- 
er." The love of God is shed abroad in his heart, and while 
he '^ feels the power of the world to come," he exclaims, in the 
triumphant language of truth, " I am persuaded, that neither 
death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor 
things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, 
shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in 
Christ Jesus our Lord I" 

n. Another reason of the Christian's triumph over sin and 
■death is, the evidence he has that he is justified through Christ, 
and acquitted from condemnation. 

Sin is the only thing which has ever rendered men obnoxious 
to divine justice, and exposed them to punishment. Hence we 
entertain no hope of exemption from misery, unless we are 



190 FUNERAL. SERMON. 

pardoned by a special act of divine favor. Pardon implies the 
remission of punishment, which might be justly inflicted. Hence 
pardon supposes and implies an acquittal from condemnation. 
The believer is made sensible of the remission of his sins, for 
" the love of God is shed abroad in his heart by the Holy 
Ghost." He is brought into the state in which Paul represents 
the Corinthians, vi^hen they had embraced the gospel. '' But ye 
are vi^ashed, but ye are sanctified in the name of the Lord Jesus 
and by the Spirit of our God." The Apostle explains and 
enforces the true import of our text in the words of the 
subsequent verse. '' The sting of death," says he, "is sin." 
That is, death is an object of terror, and a source of misery, 
from no consideration except sin. The reason why we fear to 
undergo the change implied in death is, an apprehension that it 
will leave us in a state of misery. This apprehension cannot 
predominate in the mind of him who is justified by Christ, for he 
is assured, as Paul was, that to die is gain, and to ''be absent 
from the body, is to be present with the Lord." The Apostle 
further illustrates the meaning of the text, and says, " the 
strength of sin is the law." That is, the law points out the na- 
ture and consequences of sin, ascertains its just desert, and de- 
nounces punishment. To the Romans Paul says, " I had not 
known sin, but by the law." '' Witliout the law, sin was dead." 
" I was alive without the law." That is, while he was without 
a knowledge of the real nature of the law, and the punish- 
ment it threatened sin, he entertained hopes of salvation by the 
law ; but, says he, '' when the commandment came," in its true 
import and force, "sin revived," it started up hke a tyrant hold- 
ing him in bondage, "and I died." That is, he gave up all hope 
of obtaining salvation by his own obedience to the law, and felt 
himself " shut up" under condemnation. How was he then to 
be delivered and justified ? By the righteousness of Christ. For 
he declares thus of Christ, " whom God hath set forth to be a 
propitiation through faith in his blood ; to declare his right- 
eousness, that he might be just, and the justifier of him who 
believes in Christ, trusts to his righteousness for salvation, is par- 
doned, acquitted from condemnation, and of course can with 
propriety triumph over sin and death, exclaiming with the Apos- 



FUNERAL SERMON. 



191 



tie, " Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory through our 
Lord Jesus Christ." 

III. Another reason of the Christian's triumph over sin and 
death is, the evidence he has, that his salvation is wholly by 
the grace of God. 

From what has been advanced under the preceding articles, 
it appears, that he who is brought to believe on Christ, is con- 
vinced of the justice of his condemnation by the law, and de- 
prived of all hope of obtaining salvation by it. Hence he knows 
and realizes that he is saved by grace. Grace is an exercise of 
favor. It implies, that the person to whom he is manifested is 
treated better than he has a right to demand. It means the be- 
stowment of good where evil is deserved and may be justly in- 
flicted. Deliverance from the sentence of the law, therefore, 
and the bestowment of salvation, are the free, sovereign, un- 
merited gifts of God. This reasoning abundantly corresponds 
with the language of scripture. Says Paul, " If they which are 
of the law be heirs, faith is made void, and the promise of none 
effect." " It is of faith, that it might be by grace," " and if by 
grace, then it is no more of works ; otherwise grace is no more 
grace." ^' By grace are ye saved, through faith, and that not 
of yourselves ; it is the gift of God." In the gospel plan there 
is no such thing as blending works and grace in the great affair 
of salvation. Their natures and their provinces are wholly dis- 
tinct. " To him," says Paul, '' that worketh, is the reward 
not reckoned of grace, but of debt ; but to him that worketh 
not, but believeth on him who justifieth the ungodly, his faith is 
counted for righteousness." Believers can say, in the language 
of truth, " Not by works of righteousness which we have done, 
but according to his mercy he saved us, that being justified by 
his grace, we should be made heirs according to the hope cff 
eternal hfe." Thus the Christian, convinced from his own ex- 
perience and from the scriptures that his salvation is by grace, 
has confidence in himself, but places it all in God. Here is all 
his hope and all his rejoicing. For he knows that "God is faith- 
ful," by whom he was called to the fellowship of his Son. If 
his salvation was left to his own wavering resolutions, and fee- 




192 FUNERAL SERMON. 

ble efforts, he might well despair ; he might well expect never 
to be free from the " sting of death g.nd the strength of sin :" 
but as he knows that he is " kept by the power of God," he can 
with confidence consider himself as more than conqueror. 

IV. Another reason of the Christian's triumph over sin and 
death is, the evidence he has of the resurrection of Christ. Our 
assent to the truth of this is to be governed by the testimony of 
those who were eye witnesses. The fact therefore of Christ's 
resurrection, is to be believed on the same ground with histori- 
cal facts. What, then, do we require in order to our belief of 
these ? That there should be a sufficient number of witnesses, 
men of veracity, not governed by interested motives. The ac- 
counts given by the Evangelists and Apostles, in these respects, 
carry irresistible conviction to the mind. Their conduct in as- 
serting the resurrection of Christ, is utterly unaccountable on 
any supposition, except that of firm belief founded on the re- 
sistless evidence of their senses. Like plain honest men, they 
simply declared the fact. They persisted in declaring it. From 
what motives could they act ? Did they look for ease, or hon- 
or, or wealth ? No ; in asserting the resurrection of Christ, 
they sacrificed everything usually esteemed among men. They 
exposed themselves to persecution, distress, poverty and death. 
Would they have done these things, if they had not possessed 
sufficient evidence that Christ had risen from the dead ? The 
immediate disciples of Christ did not seem to understand him, 
when he repeatedly assured them that he should die, and that 
he should rise on the third day. When he was crucified, they 
seem to have despaired of the cause in which they had embark- 
ed. Could any thing but the clearest evidence dispel their 
doubts, and revive their confidence ? When they saw their 
Master hanging on the cross, suffering deaths the greatest of all 
human calamities, could any trivial motive, could any probable 
testimony, induce them to engage again in his cause, and ex- 
pose themselves to the vengeance of his murderers ? Reason 
says, no. Common sense and common experience say, no. 
What evidence, then, had the disciples, which convinced them ? 
I Einswer, the evidence of their senses. " To them Christ, af- 



FUNERAL SERMON. 193 

ter his passion, showed himself aUve, by many infallible proofs, 
being seen of them forty days, and speaking of the things per- 
taining to the kingdom of God." The Apostle Paul had been 
a great enemy of Christ and his followers. He persecuted them 
even unto strange cities. Yet violent and obstinate as he was 
he was convinced of his error, and became a zealous supporter 
of Christ's resurrection. He supposed this doctrine to be a 
fiction, a doctrine injurious to himself and his nation. We may 
therefore be assured, that he did not embrace it without the 
most impressive evidence. This evidence he states thus — " For 
I delivered unto you, first of all, that which I also received, how 
that Christ died for our sins — that he was buried, and that he 
rose again the third day ; and that he was seen of Cephas ; 
then of the twelve ; after that he was seen of above five hun- 
dred brethren at once, of whom the greater part remain unto 
this present, but some are fallen asleep ; after this he was seen 
of James, then of all the Apostles ; and last of all, he was seen 
of me also." — This account was written by the Apostle Paul 
but a few years after the resurrection. He had all the means 
necessary to produce full conviction, and he received with joy 
the doctrine he had labored to exterminate. The evidences of 
the resurrection have been handed down to us through the tes- 
timony of relators, and are as direct and full as the evidences 
of any fact recorded in profane history. I am persuaded that 
no man, who sufliciently examines these evidences, can with- 
hold his belief of the resurrection of Christ. If he can, he can 
disbelieve all history without exception. The resurrection of 
Christ is the basis of Christianity. " If Christ is not risen, our 
faith is vain, we are yet in our sins." '' But now is Christ ris- 
en." Of course the Christian is assured that he shall be like 
him ; that he shall be fashioned like to Christ's glorious body, 
and with him shall live, and reign, and triumph forever. 

V. Another reason of the Christian's triumph over sin and 
death is, the evidence he has that all mankind shall be raised. 

For the knowledge of the resurrection of the body we are 
wholly indebted to divine revelation. Our faith in this doctrine 
rests exclusively on the testimony of God. It is not analogous 
25 



194 FUNERAL SERMON. 

to any known laws of nature, that animal bodies, once dead and 
dissolved into their original principles, should be reorganized, 
and reanimated. These effects, however, fall within the limits 
of Omnipotence, and though they are beyond the established 
laws of nature, they do not imply a contradiction to them. The 
resurrection of the body is abundantly asserted in the scriptures, 
particularly in those of the new Testament. Christ said, " The 
hour is coming when all that are in the graves — shall come 
forth." The Apostle Paul says thus, " But now is Christ risen 
from the dead, and become the first fruits of them that slept." 
The first fruits were a pledge and assurance of the subsequent 
harvest. In like manner Christ's resurrection is a pledge of the re- 
surrection of the dead. " For since by man came death, by man 
came also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, 
even so in Christ shall all be made alive." The doctrine of the 
resurrection constituted a chief part of the preaching of the Apos- 
tles. In the 4th chapter of Acts, it is said of Peter and John, that 
the priests and the captains of the temple were grieved that 
they taught the people, and preached through Jesus the resur- 
rection of the dead. In the 18th chapter, Paul declares to king 
Agrippa, that the Jews had accused him on account of his hope 
of the resurrection, and says, ''Why should it be , thought a 
thing incredible with you, that God should raise the dead ?" 
To the Athenians, the same Apostle preached " Jesus and the 
resurrection." To the Corinthians he said, " God hath both 
raised up the Lord, and will also raise us up by his power." 
There appear to be two different resurrections spoken of in the 
scriptures. The first is described by Paul, thus — " For the 
Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the 
voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God, and the 
dead in Christ shall rise first ; then we which are alive and re- 
main, shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to 
meet the Lord in the air, and so shall we ever be with tJie Lord." 
John the revelator describes the same thus — '' And I saw thrones, 
and they sat upon them, and judgment was given unto them ; 
and I saw the souls of them that were beheaded for the witness 
of Jesus ; and they lived and reigned with Christ a thousand 
years. But the rest of the dead lived not till the thousand years 



FUNERAL SERMON. 195 

were finished. This is the first resurrection. Blessed and holy 
is he that hath part in the first resurrection ; on such the sec- 
ond death hath no power, but they shall be priests of God, and 
of Christ, and shall reign with him a thousand years." The 
second and general resurrection is described thus by Christ — 
'' The hour is coming when all that are in the graves shall hear 
his voice, and shall come forth ; they that have done good unto 
the resurrection of life, and they that have done evil unto the 
resurrection of damnation." John says, '' And I saw the dead 
small and great stand before God — and the sea gave up the 
dead that were in it ; and death and hell delivered up the dead 
that were in them." — Thus it appears from the scriptures, that 
all mankind will be raised from the dead. The resurrection of 
those who believe in Christ, is taught more fully in the scrip- 
tures, than the resurrection of the wicked. The reason of this 
doubtless was, that believers, particularly in the primitive ages 
of the Church, might be encouraged to persevere. Paul says 
to the Romans — '• If the spirit of him that raised up Jesus from 
the dead dwell in you, he shall also quicken your mortal bodies 
by his spirit which dwelleth in you." To the Philippians he says 
of Christ — " V/ho shall change our vile body that it may be 
fashioned like unto his glorious body." To the Corinthians he 
says — '• As we have borne the image of the earthy, we shall 
also bear the image of the heavenly." The Christian, then, 
has great reason to triumph over sin and death ; for he has a 
well grounded hope, that his body will be raised up from death, 
freed from sin, rendered glorious, spiritual, incorruptible, and 
capable of endless fehcity in heaven. 

VI. Another reason of the Christian's triumph over sin and 
death is, the evidence he has that after the resurrection he shall 
be admitted to complete eternal happiness in heaven. 

It is evident from the scriptures, that behevers, immediately 
after death, enter into happiness. Paul said thus — " For me to 
die is gain." " I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire 
to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better." We are 
confident and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to 
be present with the Lord. The voice from heaven said to John 



196 FUNERAL SERMON. 

— " Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord, from hence- 
forth ;" that is, their blessedness will commence as soon as they 
die. The state which intervenes between death and the final 
judgment, is in the scriptures termed Hades.* Into this state 
both the righteous and the wicked enter, though it is neither 
the final state of happiness for the former, nor of misery for the 
latter. It was into this state that the soul of Christ entered af- 
ter his crucifixion. The Apostle Peter applies the words of the 
Psalmist to him, '' Thou will not leave my soul in hell," or Hades. 
Christ, by descending into this region, established his power in it. 
For says Paul, '' For this cause Christ both died and rose, 
and revived, that he might be Lord of the dead and hving." 
Hence it follows, that death does not destroy nor even interrupt 
the kingdom of Christ. This kingdom reaches forward and is 
continued into the invisible state, and through that to final hap- 
piness in heaven. Christ said thus : — ^' I say unto thee, that 
thou art Peter, and upon this rock will I build my Church, and 
the gates of hell, or Hades, shall not prevail against it.'^ What 
are we to understand by the gates of Hades ? Undoubtedly they 
mean death, because death lets us into that invisible state. By 
the gates of Hades not prevailing against the Church, we are 
to understand, that death neither destroys the soul, nor suspends 
its powers and enjoyments, but only separates it from the body, 
and introduces it into that w^orld which will continue till the re- 
surrection. Whatever was terrible in this state, has been re- 
moved by Christ. He has rendered the path luminous to all his 
followers. Believers will doubtless enjoy great happiness in this 
state, but when their bodies shall be raised incorruptible, and 
united to their souls, their happiness will exceed all conception. 
It will be a '' crown of life, and an eternal weight of glory." 
Just so sure as Christ has died, and entered the invisible state, 
just so sure we must die, and enter that state. Just so sure as 
he has risen, just so sure we shall rise. Just so sure as he now 
reigns in glory, just so sure we shall reign with him, for we shall 
" see him as he is, and shall be like him." All real Christians 
who die in faith, will be brought forth from Hades to the resur- 

^ See Dr. Campbell's critical dissertations. 



FUNERAL SERMON. 197 

rection of life. Christ, who is their king and judge, will say to 
them — " Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom 
prepared for you from the foundation of the world." They 
will then take possession of that inheritance which has been re- 
served in heaven for them ; an inheritance " incorruptible, un- 
defiled, and that fadeth not away." Thus by the light of scrip- 
ture we can tmce the progress of those who embrace the gos- 
pel, not only through this w-orld, but through death, through the 
invisiWe intervening world, and to the state of eternal glory in 
heaven. When they arrive at that mansion beyond the reach 
of sin and sorrow, and pain, and death, and hell ; with what 
extasy will they adore that power, and wisdom, and goodness, 
which have brought them out of all their tribulations, to a king- 
dom of pure delight, where sun, and moon, and stars shall fade, 
and the Lord shall be their everlasting light, and their God 
their glory ? The great family of the redeemed will then be 
more than conquerors, and with a shout that shall ring through 
heaven will exclaim, " O Death ! where is thy sting? O Grave! 
where is thy victory ?" 

Having brought into view the reasons of the Christian's tri- 
umph over sin and death, I shall now close the subject, by mak- 
ing one general remark, and giving it a brief illustration. The 
remark I would make is this — That the doctrines advanced in 
the preceding discourse are peculiar and distinguishing to reve- 
lation ; and that they are admirably adapted to man, as a fal- 
len, sinful being. Under the three first particulars it was shown 
that the Christian had reason to triumph over sin and death, 
from the evidence he has, that the reigning power of sin over 
his heart is destroyed ; that he is justified and acquitted from 
condemnation by the righteousness of Christ, and that his sal- 
vation is wholly by the grace of God. The writings of the an- 
cient philosophers, though professedly designed for the reforma- 
tion and happiness of man, contain no such doctrines as these. 
They are above all human wisdom. They apply to the heart, 
which is the seat of all man's wickedness. They are calculated 
to make the tree good, that its fruit also may be good. That 
religion can be of no real use to man, which does not inspire 
his heart with good principles. The first thing that real relig- 



198 FUNERAL SERMON. 

ion, the religion of the bible, implies, is a renovation of the 
moral temper. If it did not proceed farther, it would leave 
man in despair as to final happiness. For he would still feel 
himself a sinner, and liable to suffer the penalty of the divine 
law. The scriptures, in the next place, present the righteous- 
ness of Christ, by which the sinner is justified, accepted and 
pardoned. His fears are now allayed, and he has a " hope, like 
an anchor to the soul, sure and stedfast." He boasts no right- 
eousness of his own, and is convinced that his dehverance has 
proceeded from the free grace of God. This doctrine is calcu- 
lated to humble his pride, and make him place all his depend- 
ence on God. Such is the excellency of the Christian doc- 
trine. 

Under the three last particulars of the preceding discourse, it 
was shown that the Christian had reason to triumph over sin 
and death, from the evidence he has that Christ has risen from 
the dead ; that mankind will be raised, and that he shall final- 
ly be received to eternal happiness in heaven. These doctrines, 
like those just mentioned, are peculiar to revelation. Though 
they lie more out of the reach of common experience, because 
they are wholly founded on testimony, yet they are not less 
true, nor less firmly embraced by the Christian. It is enougli 
for him that they are contained in a revelation, bearing the 
most prominent features of a divine original. He assents to the 
resurrection of Christ, because he thinks it attested by witness- 
es amply sufl[icient ; he assents to the resurrection of mankind 
because it is abundantly asserted in the testimony of God ; for 
the same reason he assents to the final happiness of the believer. 
It is not essential to a Christian, that he should be able to com- 
prehend the manner in which theological truths consist, nor the 
manner in which prophesied events and facts will take place. 
To ascertain these things, so far as practicable, is properly the 
province of reason. The Christian assents solely on the ground 
of God's testimony. This assent is what the scriptures denomi- 
nate faith. It implies a perfect surrender of the heart and in- 
tellect to God. And hence it is that so much importance is 
attached to faith, and that it is ranked first in the catalogue of all 
moral and divine virtues. The exercise of faith is perfectly 



FUNERAL SERMON. 199 

reasonable and consistent. For man, in his present dark im- 
perfect state, cannot comprehend all truths which it is essential 
to his happiness to admit and practise. Hence Paul says — 
" Faith is the substance of things hoped for." It attaches on 
things invisible — it reahzes their existence, so that they exert an 
influence on the heart, and become governing principles of ac- 
tion. Hence the Apostle says — "We v^alk by faith, not by 
sight." What strong and exaUed motives must he act from, 
who firmly believes that he shall be raised from the dead, and 
that if he endures to the end in virtue, he shall be saved ? 

The preceding doctrines and observations are calculated to 
alleviate the sufferings, sorrows and calamities, of the present 
life. Receiving, experiencing and believing the truth, we shall 
be persuaded, " that if this earthly house of our tabernacle were 
dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with 
hands, eternal in the heavens." 

I shall now conclude this occasion by a short address to the 
venerable and much respected Pastor of this Church, together 
with the bereaved parent, and nearest connexions of the de- 
ceased. 

You, sir, have been frequently led through the thorny vale of 
affliction and sorrow. God has laid his hand heavily upon you 
so that you have been " in deaths oft." I am persuaded that 
your hope is in God, and that your trials make you feel the 
value of the truths of the gospel. You can doubtless say, as 
did the Apostle Paul, — '• I reckon that the sufferings of this 
present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that 
shall be revealed in us." God has begotten us to a hvely hope, 
by the resurrection of Christ. This hope is the anchor of the 
soul, and will help you to ride out every tempest. Troubles and 
afflictions are designed by God to prepare his children for heav- 
en. The Apostles exhorted Christians, to " continue in the 
faith, as it was through much tribulation they must enter into 
the kingdom of God." Of these it is said — " These are they 
which have come out of great tribulation, and have washed their 
robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." That 
Master whom you serve has said — " In the world ye shall have 
tribulation ; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." 




200 FUNERAL SERMON. 

May you, and the children which God has given you, be blessed 
in your trouble ; and may they remember their Creator ; may 
they receive your pious instructions, and follow your pious ex- 
ample, that their progress through life may be useful ; their exit 
from it triumphant, and their destiny glorious. The surviving 
parent, children and connexions, may derive consolation from 
the consideration, that they cannot '' sorrow^ as those who have 
no hope." The deceased had made God her refuge, and had 
sincerely embraced the gospel of Christ. You have reason to 
believe that she has entered into that rest, where sin, and pain, 
and sorrow, and death, will never come. Of what vast impor- 
tance is it that you be prepared to follow her ? You are hasten- 
ing to the house appointed for all the living. You must soon 
lodge there in darkness and silence. May you receive with re- 
signation the admonitions of heaven, and may the affliction you 
suffer, yield the peaceable fruit of righteousness, and " work for 
you an exceeding and eternal weight of glory 1" AMEN. 



A 

FUNERAL SERMON 

DELIVERED ON LORD'S DAY, DECEMBER 17, 1817, 

IN THE 

REPRESENTATIVES' CHAMBER, 

BEFORE BOTH BRANCHES OF THE 

LEGISLATURE 

' OF THE 

STATE OF SOUTH CAROLINA. 



# 






26 



ADVERTISEMENT. 

The following discourse when delivered had not been written. I had merely- 
stated its principal divisions, with a few brief illustrations. As an application 
was made by both branches of the Legislature, for its publication, I did not 
feel myself at liberty to withhold my assent. The discourse I have reduced to 
writing, and 1 am confident that the doctrines it contains, and the words in 
which they are expressed, are, with some small variations, the same as when 
delivered. Such as it is, I beg leave to commit it to the candor of the Legis- 
lature and the public. J. M. 



A FUNERAL SERMON. 



Honored Legislators, — 

You are assembled to deplore the loss, and to consecrate 
the memory, of your late associates in the services and honors 
of the State. It has pleased the Almighty to remove them 
from the busy scenes of life, and to consign them to the quiet 
house of death. This awful dispensation of Divine Providence 
announces to us the precarious tenure of life, and the alarming 
fragility of all its hopes, its labors, and its honors. Let us hear 
the warning voice of God 1 Let us learn our own destiny in the 
example of others ! In the late afflictive visitation, you behold 
several members of this honorable Legislature, whose hopes 
were as strong, and whose prospects were as bright as your 
own ; who shared with you the labors of the State ; who equally 
with you enjoyed the public confidence and esteem ; suddenly 
arrested in their course, and removed into the eternal world. 
While we magnify that divine forbearance which has spared us ; 
and gratefully recognize that Divine Providence which has en- 
circled us with blessings ; let us adore that righteous and mys- 
terious Sovereignty which disposes of all things on the earth 
and in the heavens ; let us bow to that tremendous Majesty, 
before whom all human grandeur shrinks into nothing. But 
while we tremble before the great and everliving God, let us 
hope and rejoice ; remembering that his goodness is as bound- 




206 FUNERAL SERMON. 

less as his power ; that whatever he creates he blesses ; and 
that he does "not wilhngly grieve or afflict the children of men." 
— Though he has subjected us to death ; yet he has rendered 
this, to all who embrace and obey the gospel, the means of in- 
creased felicity and glory. With only the light of nature for 
our guide, we can trace the progress of man no farther than the 
grave. Here he appears fallen and forever lost. But aided by 
revelation, we can follow him into a future world, and behold 
him surviving the stroke of death, and triumphing in immortal 
existence. 

The sun of righteousness has poured his rays into the gloomy 
valley and brightened the region of disembodied spirits. He 
has abolished death, and brought life and immortality to light. 
It is the distinguishing attribute of Christianity, that it dispels the 
doubts of its votaries, and inspires them with confidence and 
hope. So strong and lively is this hope in the breast of the Chris- 
tian, that the scripture describes it "as an anchor to the soul both 
sure and steadfast." To all who regard their future welfare, it be- 
comes an object of the deepest interest to ascertain the grounds 
on which a Christian builds his hope of existence and happiness 
beyond the grave. That we may view this subject in the light 
of divine truth, permit me to call your attention to those words 
of the apostle Paul, recorded in 2 Cor. v. 6. " Therefore, we are 
always confident, knowing, that whilst we are at home in the 
body, we are absent from the Lord." 

The uncertainty in which we are involved with regard to fu- 
turity, is the principal circumstance which renders death an ob- 
ject of terror. Were our destiny after the present life fully un- 
folded, our happiness or our misery would be greatly augmented. 
God, no doubt, has furnished us with as much knowledge as is 
suitable to our state ; and in a great degree, has wisely con- 
cealed from our view, the glories and terrors of a future world. 
Between these and our present state, the difference is so great, 
the contrast so tremendous and disproportionate, that a com- 
plete disclosure would overwhelm us ,with astonishment, sus- 
pend our powers, and totally disqualify us for the businesses and 
enjoyments of life. Though we see through a glass darkly, yet 
we see enough to excite our hopes and our fears ; enough to 



FUNERAL SERMON. 207 

alarm the vicious and encourage the virtuous ; enough to rouse 
up all our exertions to obtain the favor and avoid the displeasure 
of our Maker. While engrossed in the cares, the toils, and the 
pleasures of the present Ufe, and regardless of God and futurity, 
" we walk by sight, and are children of disobedience ;" but 
when the terrors of the Lord arrest us ; when we realize that 
we must stand before the judgment-seat of Christ ; we begin to 
walk by faith, and feel the power " of things invisible and eter- 
nal." Faith substantiates these to the mind, and gives them a 
governing influence over our conduct. Faith discharges the 
same office to the soul, that the eye does to the body, bringing 
near and displaying things distant and unseen ; forming a me- 
dium of communication between the soul and the future world, 
and enabUng it to rely on the testimony of God. It is the grand 
peculiarity of the Christian ^stem, that all its great rewards lie 
in a future world ; and that all its incentives to virtue and dis- 
suasives from vice, are clothed with the weight and importance 
of eternity. Hence it is, that, in the Scriptures, such mighty 
virtue is attributed to the principle of faith. It operates as a 
new sense, which reaches forward beyond life, and lays hold on 
things distant and unseen, giving them a powerful and decisive 
influence on the heart and conduct. Christianity, in this point 
of view, is of incalculable value to society and government. 
Faith is the governor and director of the Christian. It forms 
his sentiments, aud animates his actions. How powerful, how 
conspicuous, was its influence on the primitive believers ; es- 
pecially on the apostle Paul ! Such was his persuasion of the 
reality of things eternal, that he esteemed all the evils, labors 
and sufferings of the present world, as of no consideration, in 
comparison of that eternal weight of glory which is to come. 
Such was his hope and confidence in God, that he could say, as 
in the words preceding our text, " we know that if this earthly 
house of our tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of 
God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." 
His confidence was greatly increased by the consideration, that 
God was its author, and had strengthened it by the testimony 
of his Spirit. " Now," says he, " he that hath wrought us for 
this self-same thing, is God, who also hath given us the earnest 



208 FUNERAL SERMON. 

of the Spirit." " Therefore we are always confident, knowing 
that whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the 
Lord." 

The following important doctrines are contained in these 
words : 

I. That the soul survives the dissolution of the body. 

II. That Christians at death are received into heaven, where 
Christ their Lord is, in his glorified body, 

IIL That Christians have sufficient reasons to be always con- 
fident that they shall exist after death, and be forever with 
Christ in glory. 

These particulars I shall endeavor to illustrate and confirm. 
I shall then close the service witl^ a short address. 

L I am first to show that the soul survives the dissolution of 
the body. 

On the subject of the immortality of the soul, the ancients 
entertained various and contradictory opinions. It is, however, 
apparent, that the predominant belief of the wisest and best 
philosophers was, that the soul is indestructible and immortal. 
Of this they seemed to have rather a strong persuasion, than a 
firm and stable conviction. They saw that man appeared not 
to answer any determinate and ultimate purpose in the present 
state. They discovered in his intellectual and moral nature, 
principles that seemed susceptible of unlimited improvement, 
desires boundless as eternity. Were these bestowed, merely to 
be destroyed ? To the various desires and instincts of man they 
saw appropriate objects provided. Could it be supposed that 
the ardent desire of endless existence was bestowed without a 
possibility of gratification ? Every feeling of the heart revolts at 
the thoughts of annihilation. It seemed inconsistent with the 
wisdom and goodness of God, to reduce to nonentity such a be- 
ing as man, almost as soon as he began to exist, before his pow- 
ers were evolved and carried to perfection. Besides, every thing 
here appeared confused and disproportionate : Vice often rode 
in triumph, while virtue grovelled in the dust ; evil often pre- 



'f 



FUNERAL SERMON. 209 

vailed over good, and injustice rioted in the spoils of innocence. 
A state of retribution or equalization appeared to be demanded 
or indicated, by the rectoral justice of God. Socrates, the 
greatest philosopher in all heathen antiquity, contended earnestly 
for the immortality of the soul. From this he considered man 
as deriving his principal dignity and worth. It is, however, 
very apparent from the last words of Socrates to his judges, that 
his behef in the immortality of the soul, was not unmixed with 
doubt and uncertainty. Cicero, with all his gigantic powers 
and lordly virtues, was greatly perplexed on this subject ; and 
after adding to his own profound meditations, the lights of all 
his predecessors, seemed ardently to desire, rather than firmly 
to beheve, the immortality of the soul. Thus inadequate ap- 
pears the light of nature, even in the greatest men, on tliis most 
important subject. 

Among the moderns who have expressed their opinions on" it, 
Doctor Priestley is the most distinguished. The leading princi- 
ple of his doctrine is, " That man is no more than we see him 
to be." He is a simple material being. What is called mind, 
is merely the result of animal organization. There is no found- 
ation in nature for the usual distinction between soul and body, 
or mind and matter. Mind, or the power of thought, is a mere 
quality of the brain ; resides in it as its proper organ, and by it 
exhibits all those phenomena that are denominated mental. 
When the human body is completely formed, organised, and 
combined, and all the senses operated on by their appropriate 
objects, the result is thought, or the power of thinking ; in the 
same manner as music proceeds from a complete instrument 
when struck by a skilful hand. Thus, upon this scheme, mind 
can have no sepEirate existence. Demolish the organization of 
the body, and the man ceases to exist ; he is as if he never had 
been, and for his future Ufe depends entirely on the resurrection. 
When this shall be accomplished, and the body re-organised and 
re-combined, the power of thought will re-appear ; conscious- 
ness will resume her empire, and the man will find himself the 
same person that he was before his dissolution. 

This doctrine appears to me equally repugnant to sound phi- 
losophy and the language of Scripture. To reject the distinc- 
27 



1 



I 



210 FUNERAL SERMON. 



tion between soul and body, or mind and matter, is ultimately 
to reject the distinction between cause and effect, and thus to 
render all the appearances of nature inexplicable, and to plunge 
into atheism. 

Two things pervade and constitute the whole of nature. One 
is known by this, that it is moved ; the other by this, that it 
moves. The first is denominated matter, the last mind. Mat- 
ter cannot move itself, and consequently cannot move any thing 
else. Wherever, therefore, we see matter in motion, we are 
sure that it is moved by something that is not matter. That 
something is mind. Now it is certain that all matter is in mo- 
tion ; consequently, wherever there is matter there is mind, or 
a self-active, immaterial principle, which produces and sustains 
motion. Wherever there is motion, the cause of it must be 
present ; for a being cannot act where it does not exist. In ad- 
dition to this elemental mind, or active, immaterial substance, 
man possesses intellect and spontaneous power, or volition. 
From these he derives his chief dignity and superiority over the 
other parts of creation. We are as sure of the existence of 
mind as of matter. When we reason, think, remember, or put 
forth any other internal act, we are as certain that we do so, as 
we are that we exist. We have no direct knowledge either of 
mind or matter. Both are known by their qualities or actions 
only. It is a law universally admitted, that similar effects or 
qualities should be referred to similar causes, and the contrary. 
A greater discrepancy cannot be conceived, than exists between 
the • qualities of mind and those of matter. All the properties 
usually ascribed to matter may be reduced to one, and that is 
solidity. But soHdity is resistance : were it not for this, we 
could not know that such a substance as matter were in exis- 
tence. But we must remember, that resistance is action, and 
action is power ; and power is a quality of the mind, or some- 
thing that is not matter. Thus it would appear that what is 
called matter, when strictly scrutinized, loses its denomination, 
and becomes a quality. Mind therefore is the chief thing, and 
only agent, in the universe — the only real substance existing. 
In short, the material universe is merely a temporary modifica- 
tion of power, giving an outward exhibition or picture of the 



FUNERAL SERMON. 211 

invisible grandeur and majesty of God ; and will, when his 
purposes are answered by it, revert to its immaterial, elementary 
source, " and, like the baseless fabric of a vision, leave not a 
wreck behind." How absurd is it to talk of matter as the 
principal thing in nature, when indeed it is merely nature's 
dress ! Mind, or soul, constitutes man. From this he derives 
all his dignity and worth. The body is a mere temporary ve- 
hicle, connecting man with the present world, and suited to 
answer his purposes here ; but at death will be thrown aside, to 
be succeeded by a body spiritual and incorruptible. 

On a subject of such high importance as the distinction on 
which I have insisted, God has not left us to the mere light of 
nature. No, thanks to his condescending goodness ! he has 
given us " a more sure word of prophecy." To this let us now 
appeal. Through the Scriptures the distinction between soul 
and body is clearly asserted, and constantly referred to, as a 
fundamental truth. In the following words, Mat. x. 28, Christ 
commands his disciples not to fear men : " Fear them not which 
kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul ; but rather fear 
him, which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell." If 
these words do not fully imply that soul and body are distinct 
substances, and that the former is the principal part, for which 
we ought to be principally concerned, it is impossible for words 
to imply these truths. These words would be destitute of 
meaning, if man were wholly material. Though Christ repeat- 
edly assured his disciples that he should rise from the dead, yet 
they understood him not. The words bringing the tiding of his 
resurrection, seemed to them "hke idle tales." They were 
sure that Christ was dead ; they had seen him expire on the 
cross ; they had seen him laid in the tomb. After his resur- 
rection, when his disciples were assembled, " Jesus himself stood 
in the midst of them, and saith. Peace be unto you." They 
are petrified with astonishment, supposing " that they had seen 
a spirit." Mark the words of Christ : " Behold my hands and 
my feet, that it is I myself; handle me and see; for a spirit 
hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have." Luke xxiv. 39. 
Stephen the proto-martyr, when stoned to death, cried out, 
"Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Acts vii. 59. In 1 Cor. ii. 



l«i 



212 FUNERAL SERMON. 

11, the apostle says, '^For what man knoweth the things of a 
man save the spirit of man that is in him ? even so the things of 
God knoweth no man, but the Spirit of God." John heard a 
voice from heaven saying, " Blessed are the dead which die in 
the Lord from henceforth." Rev. xiv. 13. The apostle Paul 
puts it beyond all doubt that the soul survives the dissolution of 
the body, and exists in a state of conscious activity and enjoy- 
ment. Thus he says to the Philippians, chap. i. 23, "For I am 
in a strait betwixt two : having a desire to depart, and to be 
with Christ, which is far better." And in 2 Cor. v. 8 : " We 
are confident, and willing rather to be absent from the body, 
and to be present with the Lord." To the same purpose was 
the language of Christ to the thief crucified with him : " Verily 
I say unto thee, to-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise." At 
our Saviour's transfiguration, '' there appeared Moses and Elias 
talking with him." This would have been impossible, if Moses 
and Elias had not been in existence in the spiritual world. Our 
Saviour repeated the words of God from Moses to prove that 
the dead will rise : " I am the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, 
and of Jacob." How do these words contain the doctrine of 
the resurrection ? Our Saviour will inform us : " God," says he, 
" is not the God of the dead, but of the living." Abraham, 
Isaac and Jacob, therefore, are alive ; and to make the words 
true in their full extent and meaning, these persons must again 
be united to their bodies : for these are objects of redemption 
as well as their souls. The parable of the rich man and Laza- 
rus is evidently built on the common opinion, entertained by the 
Jews, of the state of departed souls, and their different situations 
after this life. It is truly astonishing, that so many of the mod- 
erns, and some of them eminent for biblical knowledge, should 
have asserted, that the doctrine of a future life, and of the im- 
mortality of the soul, was not known to the patriarchs, prophets 
and righteous men of ancient times. The contrary is abundant- 
ly evident, both from the frequent allusions to this doctrine in 
the writings of the Old Testament, as well as in those of the 
New. Turn to the reasoning of Paul, as stated in the eleventh 
chapter to the Hebrews. He is describing the nature, the ef- 
fects, and the object of faith. These he exemphfies in Abel, in 



FUNERAL SERMON. 213 

Enoch, and Noah ; in Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. He partic- 
ularly mentions Abraham, and says, '' By faith he sojourned in 
the land of promise, as in a strange country, dwelling in taber- 
nacles with Isaac and Jacob, the heirs with him of the same 
promise." What was this promise ? Was it a city in the land 
of Canaan ? Far otherwise. The apostle says, " He looked for 
a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God." 
" Now they desire a better country ; that is, an heavenly." The 
apostle proceeds, and mentions Joseph and Moses, Gideon and 
Samuel, and the prophets, and illustrates their faith by their 
hope of future reward. He mentions others who were tortured, 
not accepting deliverance. This, he says, they did, " that they 
might obtain a better resurrection." This great number of an- 
cient worthies, he declares, all died in the faith, '' not having 
received the promise." Thus it appears that the true worship- 
pers of God, under the former dispensation, beheved not only 
in the separate existence of the soul, but in the resurrection of 
the body. 

If the doctrine of the separate existence of the soul be true, 
the dreary and comfortless doctrine of materiahsm, and tempo- 
rary annihilation, must be false. Those who contend for the 
non-existence of the soul in a separate state often demand an 
example of one who has visited the unseen world, and returned 
to the earth. This, I presume, I shall be able to exhibit ; and 
also to prove, by direct example from Scripture, the existence 
of disembodied spirits. For this purpose, permit me to call your 
attention to those w^ords of St. Peter, as quoted from the Psalms, 
Acts ii. 27 : ^' Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell, neither wilt 
thou suffer thine holy one to see corruption." 

The design of the apostle in these words is, to prove the re- 
surrection of Christ. The words, as they are spoken, refer to 
David. The apostle, however, shews that they were not ful- 
filled in him : " for," says he, "he is both dead and buried, and 
his sepulchre is with us unto this day." David personated Christ 
when he spake, " being a prophet, and knowing that God had 
sworn with an oath to him, that of the fruit of his loins, accord- 
ing to the flesh, he would raise up Christ to sit upon his throne ; 
he, seeing this before, spake of the resurrection of Christ, that 



214 FUNERAL SERMON. 

his soul was not left in hell, neither did his flesh see corruption.'' 
To render his reasoning conclusive, the apostle takes these 
words from writings which the Jews acknowledged to be of di- 
vine authority, and, instead of applying them to David, ap- 
phed them to Christ. Of him he says, "that his soul was 
not left in hell, neither did his flesh see corruption." Now 
if the soul of Christ was not left in hell, it must certainly 
have been there. What are we to understand by this ? 
I will endeavor to show you. The word used in the Greek 
version is hades. This signifies the invisible state, the recep- 
tacle of disembodied spirits, the general mansion into which all 
descended at death,* The Hebrew word used in the Old Testa- 
ment for this state is sheol. Throughout the sacred Scrip- 
tures it is invariably used in this sense. Another word Iceher, 
used by the Hebrew writers, signifies the grave. These two 
words, the names of hell and the grave, are never confounded 
by the Hebrew writers. The first signifies the mansion of the 
departed spirit ; the last the repository of the dead body. The 
Greek words, hades and taphos, exactly correspond to them, 
and are used as such by the writers of the New Testament. 
Unfortunately, in our translation these words are confounded, 
and promiscuously translated hell or grave. When the word 
hell is used, the first notion it presents to an English reader is, 
the place of torment, whereas it properly signifies no more than 
the invisible state, or hidden place. The word which properly 
signifies the place of torment is Gehenna, a word of Hebrew 
derivation. Thus, by an abuse of language, has error been 
produced and perpetuated. Now as hades, or hell, invariably 
signifies the mansion of departed souls, it is not difficult to un- 
derstand that part of the apostle's creed which says, that Christ 
" descended into hell." This the ancient Hebrew writers de- 
scribe as in the central parts of the earth ; a vast repository, 
surrounded by an impassable wall, and fortified with huge gates 
of brass, and massive bars of iron, which our Saviour by his 

* Those who wish to see this subject fully and learnedly discussed, I beg 
leave to refer to Dr. Horsely's Critical Notes on Hosea, page 257, «&c., pages 
200, 201 ; and page 46, note n; and also his sermon on Christ's Descent into 
Hell. Lond. edit. 1804. 



FUNERAL SERMON. 215 

power was to batter down, and cut in sunder. That part of the 
mansion to which the righteous descended; was called Paradise. 
This was not a state of penal confinement ; but of unfinished 
bliss, of security and hope. Into this place men would never 
have entered, had it not been for sin. As the Saviour took on 
him the whole condition of humanity, it became necessary, as a 
part of his wonderful humiliation, that he should descend into 
the habitation of departed souls, that he might proclaim liberty 
to the captives, "and delivered them who, through fear of death, 
were all their life-time subject to bondage." When did Christ 
descend into this invisible state called hades, or hell ? Let his 
words to the repentant thief answer : " To-day shalt thou be 
with me in Paradise." Into this habitation of disembodied 
spirits did the Saviour descend ; not there to abide, for " his 
soul was not left in hell ;" not there to preach repentance, for 
this had been given ; but to proclaim his victory on the cross, 
— to announce that the great sacrifice of atonement had been 
offered ; and to assure the " spirits in prison" that he was about 
to " ascend to his father and their father, to his God and their 
God." Having accomphshed this part of his work, he returned 
on the third day, and assumed his body, so that " it saw no cor- 
ruption." Now, that the Paradise to which Christ went after 
his crucifixion was not heaven, as it is commonly supposed, is 
evident from his words to Mary. As soon as she recognised her 
risen Lord, he said, '^ Touch me not, for I am not yet ascended 
to my Father." This subject will receive farther illustration 
from the following words in 1 Pet. iii. 18, &c. ''For Christ 
also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he 
might bring us to God ; being put to death in the flesh, but 
quickened by the Spirit : by which also he went and preached 
to the spirits in prison ; which sometime were disobedient, when 
once the long-suffering of God waited in the days of Noah." 
Commentators have strangely perverted this text, and, for fear 
of purgatory, have given up a most important fact in the history 
of redemption. Lest they should countenance the exposition of 
the Romish doctors, they gravely assure us, in direct contradic- 
tion to the words of the text, that Christ, by his Spirit, went in 
the days of Noah and preached to the inhabitants of the former 



216 FUNERAL SERMON. 

world. The words imply no such meaning ; but plainly declare 
that Christ, after his death, went and preached : " being put to 
death in the flesh, but quickened by the spirit," or, " quick in 
spirit :" that is, alive in his soul, which survived the stroke 
under which his body fell : ''he went and preached to the 
spirits ;" not to men in the flesh : '' to the spirits in prison," or 
safe-keeping. Who were these spirits ? The next words inform 
us : '' the spirits which sometime were disobedient." This ex- 
pression implies, that they had afterwards become obedient. 
"They were disobedient, when once the long-suflering of God 
waited in the days of Noah." But as it seems implied that they 
afterwards became obedient, it is reasonable to believe, that 
numbers, who had slighted the warnings of Noah, as soon as 
they beheld the signs of the approaching deluge — when they 
felt the earth trembling, and bursting under their feet — when 
they beheld the fountains of the great deep breaking up — the 
windows of heaven opened — the floods pouring down, and in 
their wide-wasting sweep burying all in ruin ; — repented, deeply 
repented, of their enormous sins,, and found refuge in the mercy 
of God. Though " the flood took them all away," yet those 
who cried for pardon and repented, were accepted, and were 
secured in the habitation of the spirits of the just. That there 
were thousands of others in this subterranean repository, there 
can remain no doubt ; for this was the Paradise to which the 
patriarchs, prophets, and holy men of old, departed, and into 
which they entered after death. These all died in faith of the 
Messiah to come, not having received the promises ; but beheld 
them afar off*, and were persuaded of them. The reasons, I 
conceive, why the disobedient in the days of Noah are exclu- 
sively mentioned, are these — that, as they were suddenly hur- 
ried ofl'in such a tremendous catastrophe, they might still en- 
tertain fearful apprehensions of divine wrath. Succeeding ages 
might suppose, that the antediluvians had no part in the great 
redemption, because they experienced such severity from God. 
These apprehensions the apostle dissipates, by assuring us that 
Christ " went and preached to the spirits in prison." He there 
proclaimed the accomplishment of redemption ; announced the 
acceptable year of • the Lord, and the opening of the prison 



FUNERAL SERMON. 21*7 

doors. " He delivered the prey from the mighty, and divided 
the spoil with the strong;" and thus became "Lord of the dead 
and living." " Now," says Paul, '^ that he ascended, what is it 
but that he also descended first into the lower parts of the 
earth?" Eph. iv. 9. This last expression is a periphrasis for hell, 
or the mansion of spirits. Christ, at his ascension, delivered 
these, and carried them all up in triumph to heaven. The 
apostle says expressly, " he ascended on high, leading captivity 
captive." It is abundantly evident from the Scriptures, that, 
since the ascension of Christ, all his followers, at death, ascend 
up where he is, at the right hand of God ; and do not descend to 
the place called Paradise, where Christ conducted the repentant 
thief ; where were in safe-keeping all who had died in faith of 
the Messiah to come. Christ at his ascension certainly went up 
into heaven ; he prayed that where he was there his disciples 
might be, and behold his glory. " I," said Christ, " ascend unto 
my Father." " A little while, and ye shall not see me, because 
I go to the Father." " In my Father's house are many mansions ; 
if it were not so I would have told you. I go to prepare a 
place for you." Christ is represented at the day of judgment as 
coming from heaven with all his saints. In short, no fact is 
more plainly or frequently stated in the New Testament, than 
the residence of Christ in heavenly glory at his Father's right 
hand. At the day of judgment it is evident that none of the 
righteous are in hades : for John says, that death and hades, or 
hell, gave up the dead that were in them. These were certainly 
the wicked dead : for the next words assure us, '' that death 
and hades were cast into the lake of fire, which is the second 
death." 

What a glorious view does the preceding statement exhibit of 
the great work of Christ 1 How clearly does it establish the sepa- 
rate existence of the soul ! How completely does it destroy the 
dismal notion of a state of sleep between death and the resur- 
rection 1 Christ said to his disciples, ' 'Because I live, ye shall live 
also." As the soul of Christ survived the dissolution of his body 
and continued in a state of conscious activity, so shall the soul 
of every believer. Christ is the captain of salvation, and the 
king of glory. As a conqueror from the cross, travelling in the 
28 ~ 



218 FUNERAL SERMON. 

greatness of his strength, he bound in everlasting chains the 
power of darkness ; and, while he bade the prisoners go free, 
rising in all the majesty of his power, with his uplifted arm, 
smote tlie bastile of death, and crumbled it to atoms. Then 
did our great Iinmanuel triumph ! Then did he finish man's 
redemption! Then, O Death, thou didst lose thy sting 1 Then, 
O Hell, thou didst feel thine eternal wound ! 

The Saviour, having delivered the prisoners of hope, and 
proclaimed the acceptable year of the Lord ; having returned 
and visited his church, '^ being seen of them forty days ;" hav- 
ing, through death, estabhshed his empire, and become " Lord 
of the dead and living ;" having collected the myriads of spirits 
in safe-keeping ; having accompUshed his work on the earth, and 
" under the earth ;" — he ascended on high, leading captivity 
captive ; while adoring angels hailed his return to heaven : "Lift 
up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting 
doors, and the King of glory shall come in ! Who is this King 
of glory ? The Lord strong and mighty : the Lord mighty in 
battle. Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lifted up, ye 
everlasting doors, and the King of glory shall come in ! Who is 
this King of glory ? The Lord of hosts : he is the King of 
glory." — As a returning conqueror, with all his captive and 
ransomed millions, he entered heaven's everlasting doors, while 
love ineffable beamed from his Father's face, and ten thousand 
hallelujahs, sent forth in loud harmony, rang through the eternal 
regions. 

Thus I think it abundantly evident from the dictates of reason, 
and from Scriptural doctrine and Scriptural facts, that the soul 
survives the dissolution of the body. Here a question of the 
highest interest presents itself — In what state has the Christian 
reason to hope that he shall exist after the death of the body ? 
This brings me to the next part of my subject : 

II. To show that Christians, at death, are received into heav- 
en, where Christ their Lord is in his glorified body. 

That there is a mansion called heaven, somewhere in the 
vast dominions of God, is clearly taught in the Scriptures. The 
apostle Paul calls it the third heaven. " I knew a man in Christ 



FUNERAL SERMON. 219 

caught up to the third heaven." This is the place in which 
God more immediately displays his glory to angels and the 
spirits of the just made perfect ; the mansion, that " high and 
holy place," in which Christ resided before he came down to 
earth. Alluding to this, he says, John xvii. 5, '' And nov/, O 
Father, glorify thou me with thine own self, with the glory which 
I had with thee before the world was." And in chap. vi. 62, 
speaking to his disciples, he says, " What, and if ye shall see 
the son of man ascend up where he was before." " Ye are 
from beneath, I am from above." " In my father's house are 
many mansions." Paul says, '^ The first man is of the earth 
earthy ; the second man is the Lord from heaven." The " two 
men in white" who stood by the disciples at the ascension, said, 
" Ye men of GaHlee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven ? 
This same Jesus which is taken up from you into heaven, shall 
so come, in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven." 
The apostle Peter said to the Jews concerning Jesus, " Whom 
the heavens must receive until the times of restitution of all 
things." Acts iii. 21. Paul writing to the Hebrews, says, 
'' Christ is not entered into the holy places, made with hands, 
but into heaven itself." Heb. ix. 24. He also says, " I have a 
desire to depart and to be with Christ,to be absent from the body, 
and to be present with the Lord." In the scriptures the Church is 
spoken of as " The whole family in heaven and on earth ;" as 
one extensive and united fraternity, as an organi^d and pro- 
portioned body, of which Christ is the head. Jerusalem which 
is above, is mother of all the children on earth. The righteous 
at death, therefore, are merely removed into an higher mansion 
of the vast palace of God. What a transporting view does the 
apostle Paul give of the great family under Christ and God, 
the judge of all. " Ye are come unto Mount Sion, and unto 
the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem ; and to an 
innumerable company of angels ; to the general assembly, and 
Church of the first born, which are written in heaven ; and to 
God the judge of all ; and to the spirits of just men made per- 
fect, and to Jesus the Mediator of the New Covenant." John 
when in Patmos, had a view of the heavenly glory ; he beheld 
the great Messiah throned in majesty ; he saw the four living 



^20 FUNERAL ST^RMON. 

creatures and the four and twenty elders casting their crowns of 
gold before the throne, singing a new song, '' Thou art worthy, 
for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God out of every 
kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation." 

There is unquestionably a local heaven, styled the habitation 
of God ; where he manifests his glory ; a mansion of delight, far 
remote from the sphere of fallen nature, beyond the utmost 
verge of matter, where eternal nature as it flows from God, 
reigns with all its elements bound in immoveable, everlasting 
harmony ; where sin has never entered, and never will enter ; 
there throned in glory, reigns, and forever will reign, the great 
Immanuel ; there he sits arrayed in light ; and from his high 
and holy place, looks down on his vast monarchy, and surveys 
innumerable worlds and systems rolling beneath his feet. There 
dwells the train of angels and archangels, clothed in glory. 
There stand and bow before the throne the palm bearing mil- 
lions, " redeemed from every kindred, and tongue, and people." 
There stands the tree of hfe, bearing immortal fruit ; and fast 
by the fount of God pours forth its chrystal waters. The light 
of the sun and the moon are lost in the everlasting light and 
glory of God. 

Into this bright mansion, all who die in the Lord will be re- 
ceived. This is the place which Christ has gone to prepare for 
them. It is not without reason that they rejoice in hope of the 
glory of Go(^ 

I shall now proceed to the last particular proposed from the 
text. 

III. I am to shew why Christians are always confident that 
they shall exist after death with Christ, and afterwards be fash- 
ioned like to his glorious body. 

1. The confidence or faith of Christians, is founded in the 
testimony of God, and implies a full surrender of the intellect 
and heart to his authority. Hence faith becomes the medium 
of intercourse between the soul and things distant and unseen ; 
It operates as a new sense, enlarging the sphere of reason ; and 
by connecting the events of time with the retributions of eterni- 
ty, substitutes more noble and efficacious principles of action ; 



FUNERAL SERMON. 



221 



and by imparting to the present, the powers of the world to 
come, points the destiny of man to an higher interest and a 
brighter crown. Faith looks not at the things " that are seen," 
for these are temporal ; but " at the things which are unseen," 
for these are eternal. For all our knowledge of existence after 
the present. hfe, we are wholly indebted to divine revelation. 
In this the promises are so plain and explicit, the declarations 
so direct and decisive, that we have reason to be always confi- 
dent that " whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent 
from the Lord ;" that when we die, " we shall be present with 
him ;" so that " whether we live or die, we are the Lord's." 
" The Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, 
with the voice of the archangel and the trump of God ; and the 
dead in Christ shall rise first." 1 Thes. iv. 16. " Them also 
which sleep in Jesus, will God bring with him." '- For our 
conversation is in heaven ; from whence also we look for the 
Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ ; who shall change our vile body, 
that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body." Phil, 
iii. 20, 21. 

God will most assuredly fulfil all his promises ; '' he will guide 
us with his counsel and afterward receive us to glory." The 
christian founds his hope of future happiness not on the prom- 
ises alone ; he can appeal to a source of evidence more direct 
and impressive, which pours light into his understandingj and 
powerfully impresses his heart. Christ, before his departure, 
promised to his disciples the advent and illumination of the Holy 
Ghost, the comforter, and declared that he should abide with 
them for ever, that he should bring all things to their remem- 
brance, and lead them into all truth. 

2. Hence another reason of the Christian's confidence, is the 
testimony of the Spirit. John says, '' he that believeth in the 
Son, hath the witness in himself;" and the apostle says, " The 
spirit beareth witness with our spirits, that we are the children 
of God." — The Holy Spirit, under the character of teacher, 
sanctifier and comforter, is the great agent in manifesting, ap- 
plying, and rendering effectual, the redemption obtained by Christ. 
" If I go away, said Christ, I will send him unto you." ^' He 
shall not speak of himself, he shall testify of me, for he shall 




^22 



FUNERAL SERMON. 



receive of mine and show it unto you." By the things of Christ 
we" are to understand his mediatorial work in all its branches ; 
his assumption of our nature ; his spotless birth ; his obedient and 
holy life ; his bitter sufferings and death ; his triumphant resur- 
rection and ascension ; his session and intercession at the right 
hand of God. The teaching and doctrine of the Spirit of Truth 
may always be known by this, that they lead men directly to 
Christ, and induce them to build all their hopes of salvation on 
him. In the first establishment of Christianity, the Spirit bore 
testimony to the truths of the gospel, by miraculous gifts and 
powers. Men, on the surest ground, the evidence of their sen- 
ses, embraced the great salvation ; '' which," says Paul, " began 
to be spoken by the Lord, and was confirmed unto us by them 
that heard him. God also bearing them witness, both with signs 
and wonders, and with divers miracles and gifts of the Holy 
Ghost." Heb. ii. 3, 4. The disciples of Christ were so Winded 
by their prejudices in favor of a temporal kingdom, that even 
after his resurrection, they addressed him thus : "Lord wilt thou 
at this time restore again the kingdom of Israel." And he 
said unto them, '' It is not for you to know the times or the 
seasons, which the Father hath put in his own power ; but ye 
shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon 
you." Acts i. 6, 7. He also "commanded them that they should 
not depart from Jerusalem ; but wait for the promise of the 
father, which," says he, " ye have heard of me." 

Let us now see how this promise was fulfilled. Let us see 
in what manner the apostles received power from on high. 
" When the day of Pentecost was fully come, they were all of 
one accord in one place, and suddenly there came a sound from 
heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind, and filled all the house 
where they were sitting ; and there appeared unto them cloven 
tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. Acts i. 1, 
&e. The apostles were greatly agitated, and immediately ad- 
dressed the multitudes in languages they had never learned. 
At this time, a grand anniversary festival of the Jewish nation, 
there " were dwelling at Jerusalem, Jews, devout men out of 
every nation under heaven." How great was their astonishment 
when they heard unlettered Galileans addressing them and 



FUNERAL SERMON. 223 

'' speaking to them in their own tongue in which they were born 
the wonderful works of God." The apostles now experienced 
the fulfilment of the promise concerning the Holy Ghost ; they 
now received power from on high ; they now entertained no 
doubt that Christ had risen and ascended to God. Such was 
their conviction, such was their confidence, that even Peter who 
had denied his Master, now boldly came forth and charged the 
Jews with murdering " the Prince of Life." So cogent were 
his reasonings from their ow^n prophets, that they '-'were pricked 
in their hearts, and cried out. Men and brethren what shall we 
do ?" Such was the force of truth ; such was the testimony of 
the Holy Ghost, that '• the same day, there were added unto 
them about three thousand souls." The Holy Ghost confirmed 
the doctrine of the apostles, not only by the gift of tongues, but 
by the power of healing diseases and raising the dead. Mira- 
cles are the best possible proofs of a religion, designed to be 
catholic or ecumenical. They are a direct appeal to the senses 
of men ; and can be judged of as well by the illiterate as the 
learned. Miracles are supernatural facts, so connected with the 
doctrines they are designed to confirm, that if you admit 
the former, you must admit the latter. If a teacher afiirm 
that his doctrine is from God, and in attestation of it, can 
by a word heal the sick and raise the dead, we are obliged 
to acknowledge him a messenger from God ; for we know 
that it is impossible for God to lend an exertion of his pow- 
er to support an impostor or propagate a falsehood. In 
the miracles performed by Christ and his apostles there could be 
no deception ; they were performed in open day, before thou- 
sands of spectators, in the full possession of their sens^ ; and 
for ends the most disinterested and important. After the es- 
tablishment of Christianity, miracles were not necessary, and 
therefore ceased to be performed. To us, they now stand on 
record as other historical facts, and as such are to be used for 
the confirm.ation of our faith. The ordinary assistances of the 
Spirit, in sanctifying and illuminating, are granted to us, and to 
all Christians in all ages and nations ; and carry directly to our 
own consciousness, a degree and kind of evidence, which if we 
reject, we must reject all evidence whatever. '' He that believ- 



224 FUNERAL SERMON. 

eth on the Son, hath the witness in himself." This is suffi- 
cient to authorize our confidence, that we shall live as Christ 
lives ; that when he appears we shall appear with him in glory ; 
— that he will change our vile body and make it like his most 
glorious body ; and that with him we shall reign and triumph 
forever, in the kingdom of God. 

III. Another reason why Christians are confident of future 
happiness, is the evidence they have of Christ's resurrection. 
This is a most important fact, for it involves the truth of the 
whole system of divine revelation. As the resurrection of Christ 
was a miracle of the highest kind, so it gave a most striking dis- 
play of the power and interposition of God. Now if we ad- 
mit that Christ was raised from the dead, we must admit that 
he was a true prophet ; that all his doctrines were true, and that 
the writings of the ancient prophets, to which he often appealed, 
were divinely inspired. — Christ represented his resurrection and 
eternal life, as indissolubly connected with those of his follow- 
ers. He is the head ; — they are the members. His resurrec- 
tion involves theirs : '^ Because I live, ye shall live also." " I 
am the resurrection and the hfe." " When Christ, who is our 
life, shall appear, then shall we appear with him in glory." 
" We shall be fashioned like to his glorious body." " The first 
Adam was made a living soul ; the second a quickening spirit." 
" And as we have borne the image of the earthy, we shall also 
bear the image of the heavenly." 

No fact recorded in ancient history comes to us so well au- 
thenticated, so fully established, as the resurrection of Christ. 
Of this we shall be convinced, whether we consider the number 
or competency of witnesses ; the motives by which they were 
actuated ; the sacrifices they made ; the dangers they incurred ; 
the sufferings they endured ; the ardor and perseverance with 
which they laboured ; or the success and triumph with which 
their efforts were crowned. Their conduct can be accounted 
for on no supposition, but a perfect conviction of the truth they 
announced. They renounced all the usual enjoyments, inter- 
ests, pursuits and pleasures of life. These they willingly ex- 
changed for toil, reproach, dishonor, poverty, persecution and 



FUNERAL SERMON. 225 

death ; and rejoiced in testifying their attachment to their risen 
Lord. 

In the hands of a few unlettered, artless men, the Gospel eve- 
ry where triumphed. The Spirit of God bore testimony to the 
truth of their declarations, by the most stupendous miracles. 
The dead heard the voice of the Son of God, and awoke into 
life. The Gospel was indeed the power of God unto salvation. 
It subdued the proud, and enhghtened the ignorant ; reformed 
the vicious, and restrained the profligate ; humbled the vain, 
and softened the obdurate ; prevailed against the united pow- 
ers of philosophy and eloquence ; and with an energy which 
neither earth nor hell could resist, banished tlie pompous cere- 
monial of heathen worship, and prostrated the sceptre of the 
world at the foot of the cross. The great object of the apos- 
tolic ministry was to bear testimony to the resurrection of Christ, 
On this fact depended the fate of Christianity. The sudden 
and universal spread, therefore, of the gospel ; its powerful and 
salutary effects on the hearts and lives of men, at a period when 
the greatest efforts of human ability and learning had proved un- 
availing, are striking testimonies of its divine original, and such 
as ought to make us rejoice in hope of the glory of God. 

The manner in which the Evangelists have described the 
death and resurrection of Christ, impresses on the mind an irre- 
sistible conviction of honesty and truth. No dissimulation can 
be so perfect as to hide the deformity and jealousy of fraud and 
imposture. Examine the narratives of the Evangelists ; the 
manner in which they exhibit the conduct of the disciples and 
others at the resurrection ; imagine yourselves present, your own 
feelings will teach you ; they will speak a language which you 
cannot resist. Such is the language of the Evangelists. You 
cannot suspect them of deception. Why should they propa- 
gate a falsehood, when they could expect nothing from it, but 
injury, abuse, contempt and death ? The conduct and language 
of the disciples, on hearing that Christ had risen ; their doubts, 
fears and astonishment, when they beheld him ; when they saw 
the marks of the nails in his hands and feet, and of the spear in 
his side ; are incontestible proofs of the reality of the resurrec- 
tion. If the disciples had been engaged in an imposture i if by 
29 



226 FUNERAL SERMON. 

a concurrence between them and Christ ; or from any other 
cause he had been taken down from the cross before he was 
really dead ; had been laid in the tomb ; and they had taken 
him away while the guard slept ; would they have betrayed any 
doubts of his resurrection when it was announced ? Would the 
reports of it have appeared to them like idle tales, so that they 
behoved them not ? When the Saviour appeared to them at 
Jerusalem, would they have been petrified as they were with as- 
tonishment and fear, so that they could not credit their senses ? 
" Why are ye troubled," said Christ, " and why do thoughts 
arise in your minds ? Behold my hands." When the disciples 
could no longer resist the evidence of their eyes and hands ; we 
are told that their joy was so great, that they could not believe, 
and that they wondered. What a picture is this of the workings 
of nature on such an occasion ! If the disciples were engaged 
in a conspiracy to make the resurrection be believed, when it 
was not true, how happened it that they themselves were so 
slow to believe ? When Christ was laid in the tomb, the disci- 
ples gave up his cause in despair ; for they did not know the 
Scriptures, that he must rise again from the dead. God kept 
them in ignorance, that the truth might appear more conspicu- 
ous. The soldiers declared that the disciples had stolen him 
away while they slept. How could they know what was done 
when they were asleep ? Such is the refuge of falsehood. Of 
what use could the body be to the disciples except to embalm 
it ? And had they done this, this very circumstance would have 
proved Christ an impostor and false prophet, because he had be- 
fore declared that he should rise on the third day. The circum- 
stance that preparation was made for embalming the body, is a 
full proof that the disciples knew not that he should rise again. 
All the proofs of Christ's resurrection, are proofs of his divine 
mission, and of the resurrection of all his followers. Thus 
whether the Christian considers the evidence of faith, of testi- 
mony, of the witness of the Spirit, or the proofs of Christ's re- 
surrection, he has sufficient reason for his confidence as to the 
separate existence of the soul ; its future union with the body, 
and the endless felicity of both in heaven. 

Permit me, now, to close this service with a short address to 



FUNERAL SERMON. 227 

the honorable Legislature. During the last year, our state in 
general, has been visited with an unusual degree of mortahty. 
The sighs of the widov/ and the orphan, have ascended to heav- 
en. A large portion of your associates, have been called into 
the eternal world. By assembling to pay a tribute of respect 
to departed worth ; and with humility and resignation, to recoo-- 
nize the awful visitation of Heaven, you evince a becoming 
sympathy with the afflicted, and set an example, worthy the le- 
gislators of a Christian people. Permit me, to remind you of the 
distinguishing goodness of God, in sparing you. Consider these 
recent instances of mortality, as the voice of God. " Be ye 
also ready." Every moment brings you nearer the grave and 
the awful tribunal of Jehovah. Probably before another year is 
past, many in this assembly will be sleeping in the dust. Are 
you prepared for that tremendous moment, when you must bid 
adieu to time, and launch into eternity ? Turn not a deaf ear 
to the warning voice of God. Cherish the solemn reflections 
which the present occasion presses on your minds, and fly to the 
refuge God has provided. He has done every thing that it was 
proper he should do for your salvation. His Son has died for 
you to expiate your sins, and has removed all external obstacles. 
The calls of his grace are free and indiscriminate, " Whosoever 
will let him come." — " Him that cometh unto me, I will in no 
wise cast out." " Seek ye the Lord while he may be found ; 
call ye upon him while he is near." " Let the wicked forsake 
his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts ; and let him re- 
turn unto the Lord and he will have mercy upon him ; and to 
our God, for he will abundantly pardon." By embracing the gos- 
pel, you will find a remedy for every evil, a balm for every 
wound. You will be prepared to meet your Saviour and your 
God 3 and possess a hope full of ardour, full of immortality. 



^ 




A 

FUNERAL SERMON 

OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF 

MR. JOHN SAMPSON BOBO, 

A MEMBER OF THE JUNIOR CLASS, IN THE SOUTH CAROLINA 
COLLEGE, 

WHO WAS tJWFORTONATELY DROWKID l.t THE CONQAUIE RIVIR NIAR COLUMBIA. 

DELIVERED IN THE 

COLLEGE CHAPEL, ON LORD'S DAY, 

OCTOBER 10, 1819. 



A FUNEEAL SERMON. 



" THOU HAST APPOINTED HIS BOUNDS THAT HE CANNOT PASS."— Job xir. 5. 

The repeated instances of mortality, with which we have 
been visited, while they call forth our sympathy, fill us with a 
profound sense of the mysterious sovereignty and supreme do- 
minion of God. Though he clothes himself in darkness, yet he 
executes his judgments in righteousness. His path is in the 
mighty waters, and his footsteps are not known. His warning 
voice summons us to the tomb, and to the bar of eternal judg- ^^S| 

ment. Let us remember that we too must die. Let us not 
deceive ourselves by imagining, that youth, or health,or strength ; 
that virtue or learning, or mature age, can, one moment, secure 
us, against the arrest of death. Let your own experience im- 
press this solemn truth on your hearts. Call to mind your late 
fellow student who now sleeps in dust. You saw him hke 
yourselves in all the gaiety, sprighthness and bloom of youth ; 
you saw him fall like the morning flower that bows its head in 
death. O consider that distinguishing goodness, that has 
spared you ; remember your creator now in the days of your 
youth, and devote yourselves to him in a constant preparation 
for a future world. You know not how soon, or how suddenly 
you may be called to descend into the gloomy valley. Perhaps 
you are now treading at the horizon of time, just ready to step in- 
to eternity. If you would be prepared for this solemn event ; if 



232 FUNERAL SERMON. 

you would leave the world with a hope full of immortality ; 
submit yourselves to the Son of God ; embrace his gospel ; 
obey his commands ; he has promised eternal life. "He that 
believeth on the Son, hath everlasting life." " When Christ, 
who is our life, shall appear, then shall we appear with him in 
glory." " Our bodies shall then be fashioned like to his glorious 
body." 

In affliction and distress, it is a difficult task to bend our 
minds to that submissive resignation, which a just view of God's 
character and government, dictates and religion enjoins. God 
is in all things to be viewed as the supreme and independent 
governor of all worlds ; as infinitely wise and good in all his 
dispensations. With an impartial stroke he lays the monarch 
and the slave in the dust. Evil to an enormous extent and degree 
has prevailed and defaced the workmanship of God. Sin, the 
cause of all this ruin, has carried sorrow to the heart of every 
son and daughter of Adam. — " It is appointed unto men once 
to die." This sentence from the lip of eternal truth none can 
evade. Thus says Job, in the language of our text, " Thou 
hast appointed his bounds that he cannot pass." 

In all the afflictions which God is pleased to lay upon us, it 
is our duty to submit with humble and silent resignation. His 
language is, " Be still, and know that I am God !" In the in- 
stances of mortahty which are multiplying around us, he teaches 
us the vanity of the world, extreme fragility of life ; and the 
precarious tenure of all sublunary enjoyments. We are indeed 
the heirs of pain, disease and death. God has not left us with- 
out hope ; for " he hath abolished death, and brought hfe and 
immortality to light by the gospel." Here is a firm foundation 
for our hopes in life, in death and in eternity. 

Men have entertained various and opposite opinions concern- 
ing death. Some have considered it as the termination of ex- 
istence, others as a removal from the present to a more happy 
or miserable state. Some have believed death to be the de- 
struction of all sin, the oblivion of all sorrow, and the com- 
mencement of immortal beatitude. A few have believed death 
to be the suspension of existence till the resurrection. The opin- 
ions of men concerning this important subject are at best but 



FUNERAL SERMON. 233 

doubtful conjecture. They afford no relief to that anxiety 
which agitates the heart in a near prospect of dissolution. We 
tremble at that period which must lodge us in the gloomy man- 
sion of death. A consciousness that our souls will survive our 
bodies ; the ignorance and uncertainty in which we are involved 
as to the nature of our destiny ; are the principal causes of our 
irreconciliation to our fate. But were the consequences of dis- 
solution fully unfolded, is it not highly probable that our situa- 
tion would be less ehgible and more exposed to inquietude ? Is 
it not reasonable to suppose that our blindness to the future is 
kindly given ? May we not reasonably believe that God has dis- 
closed as much of futurity as is conducive to our good and con- 
sistent with our nature as rational accountable creatures ? Is it 
not probable that a full display of the just punishment of sin, 
would so far overpower and suspend the faculties of impenitent 
transgressors as to render them incapable of moral government ? 
Is it not probable that a full display of the rewards of virtue, and 
the joys of heaven, would so highly exalt the expectations and 
desires of the righteous, as to render them unfit for the present 
world ? God has undoubtedly revealed as much as it was con- 
sistent with wisdom and goodness to reveal. The scriptures 
uniformly connect misery with vice, and happiness with virtue. 
They clearly portray and define those qualifications which are 
essential to the possession and enjoyment of true felicity. Those 
whose hearts respond to the voice of inspiration, enjoy a high 
assurance, not of perpetual existence, but of perpetual happiness. 
The idea that death destroys our existence, is repugnant to rea- 
son and revelation. In the latter a constant distinction is made 
between body and spirit. God is styled ''the God of the spirits 
of all flesh," Num. xxvii. 16. Paul speaks of the spirits of the 
just made perfect; Heb. xii. 23; and of the spirits in prison, 
1 Pet. iii. 9. Job says, " there is a spirit in man." David says, 
'' into thy hand I commit my spirit." Christ said to his disci- 
ples, ''a spirit hath not flesh and bones." Stephen, when stoned 
to death, as he gave up the ghost, cried, '' Lord Jesus receive 
my spirit." Paul speaks of being absent from the body and 
present with the Lord. From these expressions it is evident 
that the separate existence of the soul is taught in the scrip- 
30 



i 



234 FUNERAL SERMON. 

tures. Death therefore, ought to be considered as only a change 
in the manner of our existence ; a change to which we are all 
liable, and, w^hich we must sooner or later experience. For "it is 
appointed unto man once to die." From this and various other 
passages in the scriptures, it appears that men are subjected to 
death, by a divine constitution. It does not appear that man 
was ever intended for an immortal existence in this world. 
Such an existence here, however it might at first appear to 
gratify our wishes, would undoubtedly be inconsistent with our 
happiness and the benevolence of the Deity. I propose there- 
fore from the words of the text, 

I. First, to illustrate the general truth asserted in them. " The 
appointment of men unto death. 

IT. Secondly, to shew that this appointment is wise, just and 
good. 

I shall then finish the subject with a few observations. 

I. I am first to illustrate the assertion in the text, '' The ap 
pointment of men unto death." 

Man is a progressive changeable being. Though his existence 
is commensurate in duration with that of deity, yet it passes 
through a variety of states, and is subjected to great vicissitudes. 
Of all these the human birth, death and resurrection, are the 
most important. These three changes, considered in connexion 
with all their consequences, present the scene of man's existence 
in a rational and splendid point of light. We are apt to enter- 
tain unfavorable conceptions of some particular arrangements 
and providences of God, merely because we view them detached 
from the great scene of his administration. But if we survey 
all his ways and works in connection, we shall rest satisfied, that 
they are marked with the highest wisdom and goodness. The 
subjection of man to mortality, is an allotment of heaven. God's 
great plan in the government of the universe is fixed and immu- 
table. In him there is no variableness nor shadow of turning. 
" Known unto him are all things from the beginning." God 



FUNERAL SERMON. 235 

has fixed a plan of government for all material nature. This 
government extends to every movement, change and variety in 
creation, and is carried on by irresistible force. God has also 
established a plan of government for rational creatures. This 
extends to all their states, motives, views and actions, and is 
carried on by laws, enforced by the prospect of punishments 
and rewards. Both these kinds of government respect man. 
The first respects him as a mere material being, the second as a 
rational being. In the establishment of the first scheme of gov- 
ernment, God expressed in man's constitution, the appointment 
of mortality. It seems scarcely to have been a question with 
the ancient philosophers, why men should die. To them it was 
no great wonder that bodies composed of earthly, perishable 
materials, governed by the laws of matter, should fall in with 
the general current of things, and verge to dissolution. It would 
have been a much greater wonder, had these bodies been pre- 
served in perpetual youth and vigor ; superior to the ravages of 
time, neither tired by exercise, nor enfeebled by disease. 
Though the laws of our constitution are such, that it cannot 
avoid decay, yet we must not have recourse to those laws 
alone, when we would explore the first cause of our subjectioh 
to mortality. These laws must be considered as the index to 
point us up to the intention of him who established them. All 
regular laws for the action of bodies must have been estabhshed 
by some intelligent agent. The uniform tendency and final 
result of those laws, must be considered, as the will of that agent. 
Our bodies simply considered in themselves are mere machines. 
They are kept in motion by regular laws, and like all other ma- 
chines, wear out by motion. God therefore, has in the consti- 
tution of our nature clearly and unequivocally expressed his will 
respecting our mortality. We carry in our very constitution 
the appointment and sentence of death. 

2. To this testimony of reason, let us add that of experience. 
The universal dissolution of the human race in all ages and na- 
tions, is an expression in God's providence, which fully corres- 
ponds with the constitution of nature. This expression is God's 
will and appointment brought into eflfect. None of the human 
race have ever been able to avoid the ravage of time or the arrest 



.^ 



yj* 



236 FUNERAL SERMON. 

of death. Those numerous nations which have successively 
spread over the earth, are all fallen into the dust and lodged in 
silence. Those heroes who once guided the storm of battle ; 
those monarchs who wielded the sceptre of empire, who devoted 
thousands to death, have themselves become his prey. Their 
dust is now mingled with that of their slaves, and all their splen- 
dor and pageantry are lodged under the clods of the valley. 
As much of time as has elapsed, so much of the truth appears, 
that it is appointed unto men once to die. 

3. To reason and experience, let us add the testimony of 
scripture. Here all doubts concerning the divine appointment 
of death are fully removed. Man at his first creation was placed 
in the delightful garden of Eden. His soul was clothed with 
innocence, his powers corporeal and mental, were unimpaired, 
and his soul walked forth in all her primeval majesty. The tree 
of life, held forth its fruit to heal all the disorders to which he 
was hable, and to perpetuate his constitution in health and vigor. 
Of the tree of good and evil, he was forbidden to eat on pain of 
death. He disobeyed his God, and not only forfeited his title 
to the tree of life, but subjected himself to death. For the 
language of God to him was, " dust thou art, and unto dust 
shalt thou return." Thus death appears to have been intro- 
duced by the sin of the first man. This corresponds with the 
account given of it by Paul. He declares that it was " by one 
man sin entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death 
passed upon all men, for that all have sined." Rom. v. 12. He 
also says, '' that by one man's offence, death reigned." That 
^^ as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." 
Hence it appears that death entered by Adam's transgression, 
and passed upon all mankind through him, as their federal head. 
For it is clear from the scriptures that men are not subjected to 
death for their own personal sins. ^' Death," says Paul, 
"reigned from Adam to Moses, even over them who had not 
sinned after the similitude of Adam's transgression." Adam 
sinned against a positive law, whose express penalty was death. 
From him to Moses, there was no law existing, which threatened 
death to the transgressor. Yet men died during this period. 
This shows that they did not die for their own sin. For, says 



FUNERAL SERMON. 237 

Paul, " sin is not imputed where there is no law." This idea 
will receive a further illustration from considering that infants 
who certainly are not guilty of personal sin, are subjected to 
death. Death therefore came by divine constitution and ap- 
pointment. Thus says Job, " His days are determined, the 
number of his months is with thee, thou hast appointed his 
bounds that he cannot pass." " They shall all lie down in the 
dust together." Expressions of this nature, pointing out the 
universal reign of death over all mankind, are too numerous to 
be mentioned. It is the voice of God and the law of nature 
that men must die. To this law there are some apparent excep- 
tions. Enoch and Elias were translated alive to heaven. Though 
they were exempted from the pangs of dissolution, yet they un- 
doubtedly underwent a change equal to death and resurrection. 
Because, without it they could not have been admitted into 
heaven. For Paul says, "flesh and blood cannot inherit the 
kingdom of God." These two persons were suddenly snatched 
into incorruptibility. A change passed upon them similar to 
that mentioned by Paul to the Corinthians, " Behold I show you 
a mystery, we shall not all sleep, but we shall be changed in a 
moment, in the twinkhng of an eye, at the last trump ; for the 
trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, 
and we shall be changed." Thus it appears from the consti- 
tution of man, from experience and scripture, that it is appoint- 
ed unto men once to die. Some have supposed that the ap- 
pointment of men unto death in consequence of the sin of the 
first man, is hard, that it is inconsistent with tHe justice and 
goodness of God. 

II. I proceed then in the second place to demonstrate that 
this appointment is wise, just and good. 

1. The injustice charged on divine providence in subjecting 
all men to death, through the offence of one, is frequently 
urged from the consideration of their unconsciousness and in- 
activity in his transgression. This supposes that, if all men 
had by their personal suffrages, appointed Adam as their federal 
head, they ought, in justice to acquiesce in the penalty incurred 
by his disobedience. But may we not be allowed to ask 



238 FUNERAL SERMON. 

whether it is not reasonable to believe, that God would make a 
wiser and better choice than men would ? Is it not reasonable 
to suppose that in an affair of so much importance, when the 
supernatural immortahty of the whole human race was depend- 
ing on the conduct of an individual, that all men would instantly 
prefer that God should determine on that individual, than that 
men should do it ? Would not their chance for continual ex- 
istence in this case be much greater, than if men who are im- 
perfect and fallible should themselves make the choice ? The 
consideration of God's making the choice, ought rather to com- 
pose and satisfy us than disturb and render us uneasy. 

2. The opposition to the justice of our subjection to death 
for the offence of Adam, rests on the supposition that man has 
an original right to immortal life in this world. By an original 
right we understand that which is founded in the nature of 
things. Thus a spirit from its constitution is immortal. It is 
created under an incapacity of dissolution. Immortality is 
wrought into its constitution, and is therefore its natural right. 
To deprive a whole race of beings of such a right for the sin of 
one would be cruel and unjust. But immortality was never the 
natural right of human nature. A body formed of perishable, 
mutable materials, unless constantly supported by some super- 
natural gift or assistance, must decay. Such was the body of 
the human nature. It had no right to immortality except by the 
supernatural unmerited bounty of heaven. God gave Adam 
access to the tree of life. He had a right to give it on what 
conditions he pleased, and to take the forfeiture when he saw 
fit. Man on the principles of his constitution ; had he remain- 
ed in innocence, could claim no right to exemption from death. 
God had provided the tree of life as a preservative against mor- 
tality. No one can doubt that God might justly exclude Adam 
from Paradise, if he disobeyed his commands. His expulsion 
from Paradise took nothing from him to which he had a right. 
It only left him to those laws of mortality to which all earthly 
animated bodies are subject. Children must of necessity follow 
the condition of the parents. We lost nothing in the first man 
to which he had any right, and therefore have no reason to com- 
plain. God has done us no injury. He created us in a mortal 



FUNERAL SERMON. - 239 

state. Immortality to us, was a supernatural favor, to withdraw 
it on a reasonable provocation was neither cruel nor unjust. 

3. An endless life in this world on the present constitution 
of nature is neither possible nor desirable. It is not possible, 
because sin has opened the doors of wrath in man, and let out 
those violent boisterous passions, which excite him to the de- 
struction of his own species. Without a constant miracle there- 
fore life cannot be endless while men are sinful. Neither is im- 
mortality in this world desirable. A few years here are enough 
for the wise and virtuous, though they are not oppressed with 
any remarkable calamities. Nothing in this world satisfies. So 
long as we remain in this situation, we are restless and uneasy. 
Were we destined to live forever here, there would be an end 
to improvement. No succeeding generation would improve on 
the acquisitions of the former. Those far advanced in years 
would be so entirely under the power of habit, so attached to 
their own opinions, and possessed of so much influence, that 
they would overawe all spirit ot enterprise and innovation. The 
whole world would stagnate, and life become as insipid in enjoy- 
ment ,as it would be long in duration. The poor, distressed and 
persecuted, would find no relief. The duration of life to them 
would be the duration of misery. Were we exempt from mor- 
tality in the present sinful state, how would the world be gov- 
erned ? What barrier could be raised to oppose the accumulat- 
ed ambition, rapacity and power of a thousand ages, all con- 
centered in an individual ? What but death could stop the ca- 
reer of wickedness, and the multiphcation of human calamities. 
The state of the present world is such, that neither virtue can 
be rewarded here nor vice punished. That then must be a wise 
ordination which i^moves the virtuous to a place of rewards, and 
the vicious to a place of punishment. We have therefore rea- 
son to believe that the appointment of death is wise and good. 
4. In this respect, we shall be still more sensible of the di- 
vine goodness, if we consider, that before God subjected man 
to death, he promised its destruction. Addressing the adversa- 
ry, who had beguiled Eve, he said, " I will put enmity between 
thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed ; it 
shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel." The seed 



240 FUNERAL SERMON. 

here promised was Christ, who took our nature, " that through 
death he might destroy him that had the power of death, and 
dehver ihem, who through fear of it, were all their lifetime sub- 
ject to bondage." When sin had been introduced, immortal 
happiness in this world had become impossible. Gould it then 
be considered as a want of goodness to subject us to a change, 
that should render us perfect and glorious, capable of endless 
felicity ? All the virtuous and good at death, depart to be with 
Christ. This, says Paul, is '' far better." For the righteous 
shall shine forth like the sun in the kingdom of their father. 
God, though he has sentenced us to death, has exposed to our 
attainment a state of greater happiness, than we should ever 
have enjoyed had we lived in eternal innocence in this world. 
Though the dispensation of death considered in itself appears 
gloomy, and strikes us with terror, yet viewed in its proper con- 
nexions and consequences, it appears wise and good. 

I shall now conclude this subject with a few observations. 

I. From the preceding discourse, it appears to be the law of 
nature, and the voice of God, that men must die. A necessity 
is laid upon us, and we cannot escape. Yet we flatter ourselves 
that death is at a great distance. We are unwilling to contem- 
plate his approach, and to exchange the gay and busy scenes of 
life for the mansions of darkness and silence. But we ought to 
consider that our destiny is fixed by divine appointment. This 
consideration we should improve, by preparing ourselves for 
death. This awful subject ought frequently and seriously to en- 
gross our attention. It will assist us in the government of our 
Uves, and afford a perpetual antidote against the allurements and 
vanities of the world. The time of our dissolution to us is ut- 
terly uncertain and unknown. Our Lord m«y come in such a 
day and hour as we think not of it. How then ought our atten- 
tion to be excited, that we may be prepared for that solemn oc- 
casion, when we must exchange worlds ! We are already walk- 
ing on the shore of that vast ocean, on which we must soon 
sail, and from which we shall never return. How then does it 
become us to repent of our sins, and to receive the gospel of the 
Son of God ! These are the only rational preparatives for heav- 
en. Let us not put off the important business of religion, lest 



FUNERAL SERMON. 241 

by refusing her as our companion in life, we be left destitute of 
her support in death. 

II. I observe in the second place, that the consideration, that 
death is appointed in wisdom and goodness, may afford us sup- 
port and consolation in adversity. Though death dissolves the 
tenderest ties, and awakens all the keenest sensibilities of na- 
ture, yet the idea that God has ordained it, not as the destruc- 
tion, but improvement of our existence, musi alleviate our sor- 
row and induce us to wait with patient resignation the moment 
when we ourselves must bid adieu to earth and all its joys. God 
for our consolation has assured us that Christ has disarmed the 
king of terrors and unbarred the gates of Paradise. Let us not 
then repine that we must fall into the dust, for if we believe in 
Christ, we shall rise more glorious. Though we are sown in dis- 
honor, yet we shall be raised in glory ; though we are sown in 
weakness, yet we shall be raised in power. ^' For this corrupti- 
ble must put on incorruption ; this mortal must put on immor- 
tality ; and death shall be swallowed up of hfe." Our near and 
virtuous friends will rise with us clothed with immortal spiritu- 
al bodies ; bright as the angels of God ; exulting in undecaying 
youth, and with us will join in the songs of heaven through the 
wasteless ages of eternity. No disappointment will then dis- 
turb us ; no separation will fill us with anguish. God himself 
will wipe all tears from every eye, and dwell in every heart. 
Let us then with patience, run the race that is set before us, 
looking unto Jesus, the author and the finisher of our faith ; 
unto Jesus the great exemplar of our future, risen bodies ; the 
great captain of our salvation, whose death and resurrection in- 
scribed victory on the tomb, and destruction of hell. In all our 
distresses and sorrows, let us confide in God, beheving that " our 
present light affliction," will work for us, a far more exceeding 
and eternal weight of glory. 

In the days of adversity, when the clouds thicken around us> 
we are apt to despond, and to distrust the goodness of our heav- 
enly father. From our present feehngs we deduce the most un- 
favorable conclusions. Engrossed by our sufferings ; weighed 
down by affliction and trouble, we are apt to indulge an impa- 
tient temper, and to repine under the chastising hand of heaven. 
31 



242 FUNERAL SERMON. 

We ought to consider that " God does not willingly afflict or v 
grieve the children of men ;" that he corrects us for our benefit ; 
that in the end, we can say " it is good for us that we have been 
in trouble." 

God, in the late solemn visitations of his providence, has giv- 
en a loud warning to all, especially to the younger members of 
this Institution. The alarming admonition breaks upon our 
ears, " Be ye also ready !" Prepare to meet your God 1 Remem- 
ber that your lives are in the hand of God : and though in his 
great goodness he still spares you ; yet in an unexpected mo- 
ment, he may prostrate all your towering hopes, and overwhelm 
you in an untimely grave ! " Man in his best estate is altogeth- 
er vanity," his hfe, a fading flower, a fleeting shadow ! 

Reflect on your late fellow student, who not long since, like 
yourselves, was exulting in the morning of his days ; arrayed 
in the splendor of youth ; and pressing forward with all the ar- 
dor of hope, in the career of honorable fame. How changed 
the scene ! Suddenly arrested ; torn from his weeping parents 
and friends, he moulders in the house of dust ! There must he 
rest till the archangel's trump shall call into life the sleeping 
millions. " Man heth down and riseth not ; till the heavens be 
no more, they shall not awake nor be raised out of their sleep 1" 
While this afflictive dispensation calls forth all your sympathy ; 
let it teach you the extreme uncertainty and frailty of life. Trust 
not in youth ; trust not in your health and strength ; these can 
afford you no security. How does this recent example enforce 
this solemn truth ! 

Reflect, I beseech you, on the goodness and forbearance of 
God. Enquire of yourselves, " why am I spared ?" Why did 
not God demand my life, consign my body to the grave, and call 
my soul to his tremendous bar ? Was I prepared ? Was I ready 
to leave the world and to be ushered into eternity ? Remember, 
another day ! And you may be called to descend into the 
gloomy valley. If you neglect the calls and warnings of God ; 
how can you expect to escape his righteous indignation ? How 
can you ever attend to the concerns of a future world ; if you 
neglect them now ? Everything is in your favor ; youth, health, 
strength, leisure, the means of discipline and instruction. Now 



^ 



FUNERAL ^RMON. 243 

indeed is with you the accepted time, now is the day of salva- 
tion. God has given abundant assurance of his mercy. " Let 
the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his 
thoughts ; and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have 
mercy upon him, and to our God, for he will abundantly par- 
don." Embrace the mercy of God as presented in the gospel, 
and submit yourselves to the counsels of divine wisdom. Sub- 
mit to the sceptre of divine mercy, and build your hopes on him 
who is the resurrection and the hfe. Then you may be assured 
that God hath given eternal life in his son ; and hath begotten 
you to an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth 
not away. You will then possess a hope full of immortahty ; a 
hope that entereth into that within the vail ; where the forerun- 
ner has for us entered ; and when the heavens and the earth 
shall be dissolved and pass away ; you will shine forth like the 
sun in the kingdom of God. 




A 

SERMON 

DELIVERED IN THE 

CHAPEL OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE, 

TO THE 

SENIOR CLASS, 

ON THE SUNDAY PRECEDING THE 

ANNIVERSARY COMMENCEMENT, 

SEPTEMBER 3, 1800. 



A SERMON 



" HE THAT HtTMBLETH HIMSELF, SHALL BE EXALTED."— Luke xiv. 11. 

These words point out the direct road to preferment. They 
exhibit that conduct which is honorary to man and acceptable 
to God. However mortifying it may be to our pride to form a 
just estimate of ourselves, and to practice the meek, unassuming 
virtue, humility ; however despicable we may appear in the view 
of the world, for denying ourselves and complying with the in- 
junctions of our divine Saviour ; yet these are the only things 
which will secure true dignity and permanent happiness. We 
ought to remember, that infinite wisdom, comprehends at one 
view, the origin, motives, progress, effects and final issue of all 
our actions. God's ways are as much above ours as the heav- 
ens are above the earth. We are limited in our capacity and 
in our own exertions. W~e are liable to forget the past, and we 
cannot penetrate the future. Hence we cannot take in, at 
once, the whole train of action, which God has ordained to pre- 
pare us for happiness. His directions are designed to coincide 
with the whole science, and the great end of our existence. 
Hence we are liable to form unfavorable and imperfect concep- 
tions concerning many of God's injunctions and operations, 
merely because we view them detached from the great plan of 
his administration. In the scripture, many dispositions are in- 



24§ ' A SERMON BEFORE THE 

culcated, to which we are naturally averse, and many are cen- 
sured to which we are naturally attached. We are apt to sup- 
pose that exalted, ambitious views, and a correspondent con- 
duct will promote our prosperity and happiness. Our pride 
leads us to measure the greatest achievements by our own pow- 
ers. Though we are limited in the intellectual as well as in the 
natural world, yet we do not rest satisfied with the bounds pre- 
scribed by our beneficent creator. We sigh to explore the 
hidden causes of things, their intimate constitutions, and their 
final destination. We sigh to wield a world, as we do an atom, 
to search the center of the earth, and to sail among the stars. 
Experiment destroys our vain imaginations. We fall back into 
our proper selves, and feel the necessity of some superior power 
and wisdom to direct, control, and limit our exertions. How 
vain is it for man to presume on the perfection of his own pow- 
ers, and to indulge an exulting confidence in himself ! He is sure 
to meet with disgrace and degradation. He who knew the 
hearts of men said, "He thatexalteth himself shall be abased." 
Our Saviour when on earth embraced every favorable opportu- 
nity, to inculcate those lessons of wisdom, which were calcu- 
lated to exterminate the pride and self-confidence of men. 
From the most ordinary occurrences he deduced the most 
weighty instructions. When in the house of one of the chief 
Pharisees, observing that they that were bidden chose out the 
chief rooms, he said, " When thou art bidden of any man to a 
wedding, sit not down in the highest room, lest a more honor- 
able man than thou be bidden ; and he that bade thee and him, 
come and say to thee, Give this man place, and thou begin with 
shame to take the lowest room ; but when thou art bidden, go 
and sit down in the lowest room, that when he that bade thee 
cometh, he may say unto thee. Friend, go up higher, then shall 
thou have worship in the presence of them that sit at meat with 
thee." He then added, as the sum of his instructions on that 
occasion, "For whosoever exalte th himself shall be abased ; and 
he that humbleth himself shall be exalted." My design is to 
show, from a few considerations, the connexion between humil- 
ity and preferment. 




SENIOR CLASS IN RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE. 249 



L Humility implies a just and proper estimate of ourselves. 

Such is our situation in the present world that it is of the 
greatest importance to us in all our concernments, to proportion 
our enterprises and our exertions to our ability. If we fail in 
this respect we shall, in all affairs of magnitude, involve ourselves, 
and probably others, in disgrace or ruin. Hence appears the 
necessity of acquiring as accurate a knowledge of ourselves, as 
circumstances will permit, previous to our entrance on the active 
businesses of hfe. We must lay aside our prejudices ; all par- 
tiality for our own talents and acquirements ; we must disclose 
all our infirmities to a strict scrutiny ; we must retire from our- 
selves, and become objects of our own contemplation and judg- 
ment. This indeed is a difficult task ; but still it is necessary 
to be performed, if we would feel ourselves in the station as- 
signed to us by our maker. We must consider our corporeal 
and mental powers ; we must enquire to what objects and pur- 
suits they are adapted. Our intellect, memory, imagination, 
our power of volition, our passions, our propensities, our affec- 
tions and aversions ; our moral qualities and improvements ; our 
situation and prospects ; our means and resources ; our connex- 
ions in social and civil life ; and above all our relation to God ; 
all these must be attentively considered by those who would 
acquire a just knowledge of themselves ; so as to preserve that 
mild equanimity which is below pride and above meanness. A 
comprehensive and unprejudiced survey of ourselves, by showing 
us our numerous imperfections, our limited capacity and sphere 
of action, will convince us that we have little reason for indulg- 
ing exalted thoughts of ourselves and of our greatest exertions. 
When we compare the extensiveness of God's works with the 
narrowness of our own powers; when we consider how soon 
we are baffled in explaining the causes of the most common ap- 
pearances, and when we consider that, in almost all our conduct, 
we are obliged to proceed upon mere probability, and that there 
is scarcely any thing except mathematical demonstration in 
which we can arrive at absolute certainty, we are surprized that 
we should ever have thought so highly of ourselves ; and instead 
of arrogantly boasting of our superiority, we are disposed to 
bow down at the feet of omnipotence and adore him for that 
32 



250 A SERMON BEFORE THE 

small portion of intelligence with which he has been pleased to 
endow us. When we have inquired and ascertained what 
things are knowable and practicable, we shall naturally form a 
just judgment of the extent of that sphere in which we were des- 
tined to act. We shall rest satisfied with the station allotted 
us by Providence, without vexing ourselves in the pursuit of 
objects beyond our reach, and consuming in unprofitable reve- 
ries, that portion of time which should be devoted to the impor- 
tant duties of life. By reducing ourselves down to our proper 
size, and confining our exertions to things attainable by us, we 
shall coincide with the laws of nature, and succeed in our enter- 
prises. There can remain little doubt of success ; because the 
means we] employ will be proportioned to the end we pur- 
sue. The only art and address necessary, will be the proper 
management of our resources. This, men of ordinary abilities 
may easily obtain by observation and experience. The amia- 
ble virtue, humihty, is, in its nature, calculated to keep , us duly 
mindful of our deficiencies and imperfections, so as to rouse all 
our powers into a steady and proper train of action^ On the 
contrary, a high opinion af ourselves will render us bhnd to our 
defects ; and of course, will lull us into a confident indolence, 
or engage us in schemes of destructive ambition. The conduct 
which flows from genuine humility is attractive and engaging. 
It never fails to secure the good-will of all our acquaintances. 
Of how much importance this to our prosperity and preferment, 
those can easily determine who are but moderately conversant 
in the affairs of life. The way for men to excel and prosper, is 
not to indulge an assuming confidence in their own powers, and 
to believe their exertions adequate to the greatest achievements. 
An high estimate of ourselves, though it may gratify our vanity 
will neither confer merit, nor ensure success. — The pine whose 
top brushes the clouds, yields to the blast, and falls with a most 
tremendous ruin. An haughty spirit, a supreme confidence in 
ourselves, is a sure indication of folly, and presage of degrada- 
tion. If we would secure our true dignity and honor we must 
possess and practise humility. For it is undoubtedly true, as 
our Saviour asserted, that he who humbleth himself shall be 
exalted. 



SENIOR CLASS IN RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE. 251 

II. Humility implies a disposition to prefer others, and to 
promote their prosperity. 

That lowliness of mind inculcated in the scriptures appears 
to be inseparably connected with genuine benevolence. This 
seeks the happiness of others in obedience to the will of God, 
and in subserviency to the general good of the created system. 
He who considers how small a part he constitutes of the great 
works of God, and who has just views of himself^ as a fallen 
sinful creature, is not disposed to exalt himself on the ruins of 
others or to say, stand by thyself, I am holier than thou. With 
the penitent publican he smites on his breast, and says, " God 
be merciful to me a sinner." He now possesses a proper tem- 
per of mind to comply with the apostle's direction, " In lowli- 
ness of mind, let each esteem others better than themselves." 
John the Baptist, when he contemplated the superior gifts and 
successes of the Saviour, humbly said, ^^ He must increase, but 
I must decrease." The disposition and conduct implied in 
true humility, is calculated to prevent the effects of envy and to 
conciliate esteem. He who thinks more highly of himself, than 
others think of him, is sure to excite disgust and opposition. 
For men generally bear with impatience that superiority of 
merit which is real, whether it is gained by laborious, personal 
exertion, or inherited from the bounty of God. An indignant 
disgust rises against him whose pretensions to eminence and 
distinction are founded in vanity and self-conceit. Even where 
the possessor of real merit allows himself to appear sensible of 
it, and to value himself upon it, he at once becomes obnoxious. 
True merit carries its own hght and its own glory with it. It 
needs not the varnish of affectation nor the officiousness of self- 
love. Unassuming diffidence, is its characteristic and recom- 
mendation. We are so constituted that we feel a peculiar 
pleasure in assisting and promoting those w^ho seem diffident of 
their abilities, and unconscious of their real worth. We possess 
an anxiety lest they should not be sufficiently noticed, approved, 
and promoted. Those who have the greatest merit, have the 
clearest views of their defects. This arises from that high sen- 
sibility and nice discernment which always exist in great and 
virtuous minds. These have enlarged views of things ; and of 



252 A SERMON BEFORE THE 

course perceive difficulties and embarrassments unknown to 
those whose mental powers are less energetic ; whose confi- 
dence arises from ignorance, and whose highest merit is an un- 
blushing assurance. It is to be lamented that with so great a 
portion of mankind, impudence will supply the place of worth. 
It is doubtless from observing this, that many from motives of 
vanity and self-conceit, from indolence or impatience, have 
neglected to gain those acquirements which were within the 
compass of their abilities, and have rendered themselves con- 
temptible by their officious intrusion on the public. Against 
errors of this kind humility is a sufficient guard. While it 
keeps the possessor in his proper province, it disposes him to 
obtain those qualifications which alone can clothe him with true 
dignity, and facilitate his promotion. He is disposed to esteem 
others better than himself and to seek their prosperity. In this 
way his whole train of conduct confers obligations on others, 
and disposes them to promote his interest. Thus he who hum- 
bles himself pursues the most direct method to exaltation. — If 
we perform acts wholly selfish they result from pride, and most 
probably will injure others as well as ourselves. Benevolent 
acts we cannot perform without benefiting ourselves and others. 
Hence as humility always disposes to benevolence, and is in- 
separable from it, it necessarily promotes our own good. 

III. Humility implies a disposition to receive instruction and 
admonition. 

The first of these refers to the improvement of the under- 
standing ; the second to the correction of our conduct. Both 
are therefore of the highest importance as to usefulness and re- 
spectability in the world. Pride is one of the greatest obsta- 
cles to mental improvement. It flatters its possessor that his 
powers are sufficiently energetic, and his present acquirements 
sufficiently extensive. Hence he considers it as a mortifying 
condescension to submit to that regular and strict discipline by 
which truth is investigated and knowledge obtained. Besides, 
pride is usually accompanied with such passions and vices as 
render the most important instructions painful and unaccepta- 
ble. What but the pride and wickedness of the Jews, induced 



rm 



SENIOR CLASS IN RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE. 253 

them to reject those invaluable lessons of wisdom inculcated by 
the Saviour ? What but their exalted opinion of themselves, 
of their wisdom and piety, that involved them in ruin ? Indi- 
viduals by a similar conduct must expect to share a similar fate. 
To the young a disposition to receive instruction, is peculiarly 
advantageous and important. As they are inexperienced they 
can form but a very imperfect estimate of human life, and the 
springs of human actions. They judge of things according to 
their wishes, imaginations, or passions. Hence they are inces- 
santly liable to fall into error in judgment and conduct. — If to 
their inadvertent and precipitate dispositions are joined an haugh- 
ty obstinacy and high opinion of themselves, disgrace and ruin 
are almost sure to follow. Their plans of conduct are guided 
by no settled principles, and of course are calculated to obtain 
no determinate objects. But if they possess a meek and pliant 
disposition, they can anticipate the wisdom of age and expe- 
rience ; they can diffuse a prudent discretion over their man- 
ners, and render their youth doubly engaging and useful. All 
have a propensity to justify their own sentiments, passions and 
actions. This propensity when confined within proper bounds 
is highly useful ; but it almost invariably proceeds to such ex- 
tremes, that it renders men blind and obstinate in their errors. 
Hence arises the great aversion which we generally have, to be 
reminded of our faults and our unwillingness to retract them. 
This is certainly very unreasonable ; for it is as criminal to per- 
severe in a fault as it is to commit it. To this great and univer- 
sal error, which arises from too great an indulgence of self love, 
I know of no remedy but humility. This will dispose us to be 
moderate, and candid, and impartial respecting our actions or 
whatever is represented to us as erroneous. We shall with 
thankfulness receive the admonitions of our friends, and shall 
be careful to profit from the censures of our enemies. Thus hu- 
mility will exalt us, while envy would depress us. For while the 
last points out our faults ; the first corrects them. 

IV. Humility renders us obedient to our Maker, and has the 
promise of his blessing. 

In this view humility appears to be conducive to our best in- 



254 A SERMON BEFORE THE 

terests. For how can we expect to prosper, how can we ex- 
pect real permanent happiness, unless our hearts and conduct 
are comcident with the will of God ? All the misfortunes, ca- 
lamities and miseries of mankind, have resulted from disobedi- 
ence to the divine commands. Pride rises up against the au- 
thority of heaven, it exalts itself above all that is called God. 
It renders men foolish, improvident, obstinate, and insolent. 
Hence Solomon said, " Pride goeth before destruction, and an 
haughty spirit before a fall." Humility on the contrary renders 
men wise, meek, cautious, inoffensive, and desirous of obtaining 
the favour of heaven. Hence it is said, '' With the lowly is 
wisdom " — " Before honor is humility." The man who practises 
humility is therefore pursuing the direct road to preferment. 
" God resisteth the proud ; giveth grace to the humble." God 
will dwell with him that is of an humble and contrite spirit. 
Humility is inseparable from true religion, and will meet 
its most glorious reward in heaven. — The apostle Paul when 
subdued by the power of that Saviour whom he persecuted, be- 
came^a meek and humble christian. In meekness he instructed 
those who opposed themselves to the truth. He considered 
himself as the least of all, and as the servant of all. He in- 
cessantly devoted himself to the wall of his divine master and to 
the interests of mankind. What was the consequence ? He 
could say with assurance, '' I have fought a good fight, I have 
finished my course, I have kept the faith. — Henceforth there is 
laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the 
Judge shall give me." In Christ we behold a most wonderful 
display of humble obedience to the will of God, and the conse- 
quent dignity to which he was exalted. Though he was in the 
form of God, and thought it not robbery to be equal with God ; 
yet he made himself of no reputation ; and took upon him the 
the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men ; 
and being found in fashion as a man he humbled himself, and 
became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." — 
Behold the glorious consequence ! " Wherefore God also hath 
highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every 
name ; that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of 
things in heaven, things in earth, and things under the earth. 



1^ SENIOR CLASS IN RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE. 255 

and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, 
to the glory of God the father. 

Having delivered what I proposed on this subject, I shall now 
suggest some instruction and improvement from it, in a short 
address to the Senior Class. 

You, young Gentlemen, my much esteemed friends and pu- 
pils, are now dissolving your immediate connection with this 
College, and with the officers who have had the care of your 
education. It is, on this occasion, natural for each of you to 
inquire, What are my future prospects in life ? What occupa- 
tion shall I pursue ? What means and conduct shall I adopt to 
insure success and promotion ? How shall I render myself 
meritorious, useful and respectable ? To assist you, as to 
these things was my chief object in the preceding discourse. I 
have attempted to shew that humility leads to promotion and 
honor, by teaching its possessor to form a just estimate of him- 
self, by inducing him to prefer others ; by disposing him to re- 
ceive instruction and admonition, and by rendering him obedi- 
ent to God so as to secure his blessing. What I have farther 
to advance, respects the ways in which the amiable virtue hu- 
mility is displayed and the objects towards which it is to be 
practised. 

1. Practice it towards your superiors. That there is a great 
difference in men as to their mental powers, acquired abilities;^ 
religious and moral improvements, you have abundant evidence 
from your own observation. Intellectual worth always imposes 
an obligation of respect and attention. These nothing except 
envy can withhold. Never indulge this ignoble passion ; but 
allow superior merit and excellence their full praise. In doing 
this you will act the part of reason and benevolence. You will 
engage in the cause of all virtue against all vice. For envy is a 
peculiar modification of selfishness ; and every exercise of it im- 
phes a consciousness of superior excellence, and a desire to tar- 
nish its lustre. While I advise you to pay respect to your su- 
periors in worth ; I wish not to be understood to mean, that 
you should implicitly follow them or receive their instructions, 
without reference to your own understandings. You may as 
well be destitute of reason and judgment, as to suffer others 



256 SERMON BEFORE THE SENIOR CLASS, &C. 

wholly to control you in the exercise of them. If you happen 
to differ from those who are farther advanced in knowledge and 
experience than yourselves, all that can be expected of you is 
that you submit your own judgment, with all due respect and 
deference. This will evince a disposition to receive and follow 
the clearest light. I must here particularly recommend to you, 
to render the most prompt and cheerful obedience, in all things, 
just and lawful, to persons in civil stations, environed with dele- 
gated authority. In doing this you must lay aside all private 
considerations, and be governed wholly by the public good. 

2. The amiable virtue, humility, you will do well always to 
manifest to your equals and inferiors. To the first be civil, af- 
fable and obliging in all your conduct. Be willing to allow 
them the just reward of their merit, and do not repine if they 
happen to be promoted above you. It will be more to your 
honor to suspect you have too highly estimated your own worth, 
than to envy their prosperity. To your inferiors be condescend- 
ing and attentive. For there is scarcely any person whose as- 
sistance and good wishes, you may not at some time or other 
need. True humility does not require that you should reduce 
yourselves to an equality with all persons. This would be 
meanness or pusillanimity. Assume to yourselves no greater 
difference than your own circumstances and duties, as well as 
those of others, require. If you should ever be invested with 
authority in public stations, use it with moderation and for the 
public good. If you possess riches, they will rank you above 
the poor, but will increase the obligations of charity and benevo- 
lence. A mild, unassuming conduct, whatever may be your 

situation, will give lustre to every virtue and every action. 

Time now requires that I give you my final benediction, by as- 
suring you of my friendship, of my solicitude for your prosperity, 
and commending you to the great author of all good. May 
you walk humbly before him, that he may exalt you to honor in 
this world, and to eternal glory in the world to come. 



AN 



ANNIVERSARY SERMON, 



DELIVERED IN THE 



PRESBYTERIAN MEETING-HOUSE IN COLUMBIA, 



ON LORD'S DAY, DECEMBER 1, 1816, 

BEING THE DAY PREVIOUS TO THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE 
SOUTH CAROLINA COLLEGE. 



33 



a^ Lfiir' 



-^t. 



TO THE STUDENTS 
OF THE SOUTH CAROLINA COLLEGE. 

Young Gentlemen, 

At your instance, 1 commit to the press the follow- 
ing sermon. As it was composed in haste, and without 
the most distant idea of publication, I am very sensible 
that it cannot sustain the ordeal of severe criticism. If 
however it affords you either instruction or pleasure, 
I shall be satisfied. To you I present this, as a small 
testimony of the affection and esteem which your con- 
duct and diligent discharge of your duties, have excited. 

J. MAXCY. 



■*'4, 



A SERMON, 



*' THOU SHALT LOVE THE LORD THY GOD WITH ALL THY HEART."— 

Matthew xxii. 37. 

To rational beings, nothing can be more interesting than to 
know the will of their Creator. This is the law of their exist- 
ence, the measure of their virtue, and the source of their happi- 
ness. Beings endowed with intellectual and moral powers, can 
no more exist independent of law and obligation, than an effect 
can exist without a cause. Creatures through the abuse of their 
liberty may change ; they may violate the laws by which they 
ought to be governed ; they may become so enslaved to invete- 
rate habits of evil, as to be morally incapable of virtuous affec- 
tions and actions ; and yet their obligations may remain, in all 
their extent, and in all their authority. Hence, as obligation 
flows from the supreme moral excellence of God, the former is 
as incapable of change or diminution, as the latter. Men are 
required to love God supremely, not because their compliance 
will make them happy, but because he deserves their obedience. 
To assert that any being is amiable or worthy, is the same as to 
assert, that that being deserves to be loved and esteemed^ 
Moral excellence or worth carries with it and impresses on the 
mind of the percipient, the sentiment of desert. Hence the ob- 
ligations of moral agents rise in importance and strength in pro- 
portion to the degree of excellence possessed by their cause. 
The nature of God therefore, originates and imposes obliga- 



is i** 



262 ANNIVERSARY SERMON. 

tions, of the widest extent, the highest importance, and the 
longest duration. These obhgations are as immutable and im- 
perishable as their origin ; and it is as impossible that beings to 
whom their power extends, should ever be exonerated from 
them, as it is, that the universe should be sustained and governed 
by a power inferior to that which created it. God therefore 
displays the highest wisdom, justice and goodness, in addressing 
every rational creature, in the language of our text, " Thou shalt 
love the Lord thy God with all thy heart." To show the ground 
and reasonableness of this requirement, and thus to disclose the 
nature of moral obligation and of true virtue, are my principal 
objects on this occasion. 

I. The reasonableness of supreme love to God will appear if 
we consider the nature of God. Though our conceptions and 
knowledge of this subject, are necessarily limited and imperfect ; 
yet they may undoubtedly, be sufficiently adequate for the se- 
curity of our virtue and happiness. To say that we can have 
no just, because we can have no perfect knowledge of the Su- 
preme Being, is highly absurd. Did any one ever imagine that 
a grain of sand contained no part of the earth, because it did 
not contain the whole ? Would a reasonable man put out his 
eyes, because his sight could not penetrate the universe ? God 
has furnished us with as much knowledge as was proper for our 
state ; and with this knowledge we ought to rest satisfied. The 
attributes of God, which constitute his supreme perfection, are 
with propriety expressed under two denominations, natural and 
moral. The former do not in their nature necessarily involve 
those qualities which render a being amiable or estimable. 
They are not such as furnish a proper ground of moral obliga- 
tion ; or authorize the possessor to prescribe laws to other beings. 
Such are the existence, knowledge and power of God. These 
attributes do not in themselves imply worth or moral excellence. 
For surely, a being is not worthy or estimable, merely because 
he exists, knows, and possesses power. We can easily con- 
ceive that a finite being in the highest order of existence may 
possess great power and knowledge, and yet be perfectly ma- 
levolent. If then it were possible for infinite power and 



ANNIVERSARY SERMON. 263 

knowledge to exist without benevolence, they would inspire 
terror rather than love. A being therefore, is not necessarily 
amiable or deserving, because he exists every where, because 
he knows all things, and can perform all things. It is however 
impossible, that a being, should possess infinite existence, power 
and knowledge, and at the same time be malevolent ; because 
these attributes belong to God. They do not however, consti- 
tute his supreme excellence, which in the language of scripture 
is called his hohness or his glory. For this we must look to his 
moral perfections. These involve the volitions of God ; his dis- 
positions towards his creatures ; all his wise and good decrees 
concerning them ; all those qualities which render him the 
proper object of perfect love, obedience and adoration. When 
to the infinite existence, power and knowledge of God, we add 
his holiness, justice, mercy, faithfulness and veracity, we form 
the highest possible conception of his infinite amiableness or 
worth. To the virtuous man nothing is so excellent, nothing 
so desirable, as God's power and knowledge clothed with infi- 
nite goodness, justice and mercy. Infinite power and knowl- 
edge, prompted by infinite benevolence and justice, can do 
nothing but good, and produce nothing but happiness. God's 
right to prescribe laws to his rational creatures, to direct and 
control their active powers, results from his infinite perfection. 
He requires men to love him with all their hearts, not merely 
because they are dependent on him ; not merely because a com« 
pliance with his will, will render them happy ; but because he 
is what he is, and from his own inherent and unchangeable per- 
fection deserving of their love. If then it is reasonable that 
man should esteem and regard the highest excellence ; that he 
should be such as God requires him to be ; that he should fix 
his desires on an object which they can never transcend ; that 
he should from the most exalted motives, pursue the highest 
happiness and perfection of which he is capable ; surely it is 
reasonable that he should love God with all his heart. 

II. This will farther appear, if we consider the nature of man. 
God has rendered him capable of various kinds and degrees of 
enjoyment and happiness. For this purpose, he has furnished 



264 ANNIVERSARY SERMON. 

him with different kinds and orders of powers, both corporeal 
and mental. To the exercise and cultivation of these within 
certain limits he has annexed a certain degree of pleasure. This 
he has done to incite man to activity, to secure his virtue, and 
to allure him on towards the highest dignity and glory of his 
nature. The powers of external sense are first evolved and 
employed in their proper sphere. To these, the innumerable 
productions of nature, present the charms of novelty and the 
blandishments of pleasure. Attracted by these, man eagerly 
springs forward in the career of his existence, and riots on the 
luxuriance of nature. Regardless of the laws imposed by his 
Maker, and unaided by the wisdom of experience, he hurries 
from object to object, and in the midst of his tumultuary pro- 
gress, rushes into the region of disease and pain. He now looks 
back on the realms through which he has run, and instead of 
flowers, and streams, and shining skies, beholds a dreary waste, 
and sinks in solitary wretchedness. Ah ! thoughtless youth, 
return to the path from which thou hast wandered. Thy hap- 
piness dwells not in the pleasures of sense. 

To the powers and enjoyments of sense, succeed those of the 
fancy and imagination. The former of these suggests unreal 
images ; the latter arranges and combines them into innumera- 
ble forms of ideal beauty. These eccentric and versatile pow- 
ers are often a source of high and innocent enjoyment. They 
are essential to the vigorous exertions of genius ; and through 
its creative powers and beautiful productions, may be rendered 
subservient to religion and morality. But these powers, if in- 
dulged beyond a certain limit become highly injurious, and 
furnish new causes of misery. As they spread a profusion of 
unreal charms over the course of human life, and over the works 
of nature, they accustom the mind to impracticable scenes of 
action and enjoyment ; and thus render it averse to serious oc- 
cupation, and disgusted with a world where pain is interwoven 
with pleasure ; and where men must submit to labor if they 
would procure enjoyment. What misery do men often bring 
on themselves, and on those around them, by giving themselves 
up to the visions of fancy and the wild excursions of imagination ! 
In proportion as these exalt us into the regions of visionary bliss, 



ANNIVERSARY SERMON. 265 

they pervert or deaden the intellectual pov^ers ; and by creating 
wants which can never be satisfied, and desires which can never 
be bounded, multiply the causes of fictitious sorrow, and real 
disappointment. Let him therefore, who would usefully and 
honorably fill the station allotted him by Providence, subject his 
imaginative powers to the control of the noble principles of 
reason, and to the dictates of practical wisdom. To do this 
effectually, he must look up with supreme regard to the Author 
of his being, who bestowed all his faculties, and prescribed the 
laws of their operation. 

Next in order, are the powers of taste. These relate prima- 
rily, to natural visible beauty ; and are designed to attach us to 
the works of creation, that from these we may ascend up to 
their glorious Author. In the progress of the mind towards 
perfection ; in the evolution of its principles and energies, these 
powers extend to all that is grand, sublime and beautiful, in the 
productions of human genius. The sphere of our enjoyments 
and pleasures is enlarged ; and if we fondly resign ourselves to 
these, without aspiring to nobler pursuits and purer joys ; we 
shall at last be filled with sorrow, for satisfactions whose causes 
will have ceased, and whose end had been perverted by exces- 
sive indulgence. 

Another power, and of an higher order, is the moral sense. 
The immediate object of this, is moral beauty. — This, like nat- 
ural beauty, is perceived, and its effects instantaneously felt ; 
but it cannot be accurately defined, because the principles of 
universal beauty are not known. Wherever we have a direct 
perception, accompanied with esteem and approbation, of virtu- 
ous aflTections and actions, there exists moral beauty. This, in- 
dependent of all other considerations produces a sense of worth, 
desert or excellence. Thus justice, mercy, beneficence, are not 
seen with indifference, but with esteem and approbation. No 
animal is so constituted, except man, as to be sensible of moral 
beauty ; to be capable of loving and imitating it. From its own 
intrinsic amiableness, it excites emotions and passions as cer- 
tainly and irresistibly as natural beauty. This part of man's 
constitution shows his great superiority over the brutes, indicates 
his high destiny for the society of heaven, and enables him for- 
34 



266 ANNIVERSARY SERMON. 

ever to approximate the infinite source of all beauty*and hap- 
piness. Moral beauty in its highest essence, as it exists in God, 
is the immutable ground of all moral obligation ; the true mo- 
tive, the standard, and the end of all virtue. No finite, intelli- 
gent being, therefore, can, in any period of existence, or in any 
situation, be exempt from moral obligation, or from the duty of 
loving God vi^ith all his heart. When God requires this, he re- 
quires no more than he deserves on account of his own inhe- 
rent excellence ; no more than it is our duty and our highest 
happiness to render. How desirable then is virtue ! How in- 
valuable the happiness which flows from it ! Were man desti- 
tute of moral sense, he could have no perception of right or 
wrong, of virtue and sin, of good or ill desert ; he could appro- 
priate neither praise nor blame ; nor could he be a subject of re- 
ward and punishment. It is therefore a dangerous error in eth- 
ics to say that it is of no consequence whether the moral sense 
be innate or acquired. God has not rested the virtue and hap- 
piness of his creature man, on such an uncertain foundation as 
a factitious habit. The moral laws, or the principles of them, 
from which God requires man to act, are all founded in the na- 
ture of God and man. This is the only solid basis on which 
morahty can be duly enforced ; on which the nature, extent and 
authority of moral obligation can be demonstrated. 

Another power possessed by man is denominated intellect. 
This bestows on him his highest dignity and glory, and gives 
him his chief superiority over all other animals. Its exercises 
and objects, are the perception, investigation and communication 
of truth. As we arrive at the knowledge of this through differ- 
ent mediums and different processes of mind, it may be distin- 
guished, and distributed into the following denominations ; sen- 
sible, intuitive, demonstrative, poetical, theological, and histori- 
cal. The first results from the direct perceptions of our senses, 
both internal and external ; the second belongs to axioms, or 
self evident propositions ; the third results from our reasoning 
powers employed in deducing things less known, from things 
more know^n ; the fourth consists in the possible existence of 
things within the hmits of verisimilitude ; the fifth depends on 
the testimony of God, and the sixth on the testimony of men. 



ANNIVERSARY SERMON. 267 

To these denominations of truths may be reduced all the knowl- 
edge of which the human mind is capable. What a wide field, 
is here opened for the exercise of the intellectual powers ! To 
these we are indebted for all the benefits resulting from arts and 
sciences ; from agriculture and commerce ; from legislation and 
government; from all the economical, political and religious 
institutions of civil society. This wonderful power, which has 
extended the empire of man over the works and laws and ele- 
ments of nature is the medium through which we procure the 
highest blessings of existence and render them subservient to 
our happiness. The intellect and all our other powers were 
bestowed for our good, and the glory of our Creator. He only 
could prescribe the laws of their operation and direct them to 
their proper ends. These laws he has not left to be enforced 
by the decisions of reason, but has called in the aid of our aflfec- 
tions and passions. Supreme love to God " fulfils the law," 
because it brings all our moral sentiments and active powers 
into subjection to the divine will. Love to God therefore, is 
perfectly reasonable, as it is the only security for our virtue and 
happiness. Thus whether we survey our senstive, imaginative, 
our moral or intellectual powers, we find abundant reason to 
love their great and beneficent author. " Of him, and to him, 
and through him are all things." All the beauty that smiles on 
the earth, and all the glory that shines in the heavens ; all the 
virtues that adorn the minds of saints and angels, are but ema- 
nations from the great source of infinite excellence. Were 
this suspended, the whole creation would fade under the eye of 
its author ; evil would every where shoot forth in all its deform- 
ity ; and the car of death would roll in ruin through the universe. 
As the Author of our being is the source of all virtue and hap- 
piness ; the centre and life of nature ; how reasonable is it, that 
as he wills our felicity he should require our love ? 

III. This will farther appear if we consider the state of man. 

This is a state of entire dependence, and must continue such 
as long as man shall exist. No power less than that which 
created man, could sustain him one moment. Existence there- 
fore is continued creation. Of consequence, man is as com- 



268 ANNIVERSARY SERMON. 

pletely dependent on God, as an effect is on its cause. De- 
pendence supposes power on one side, and imbecility on the 
other. In finite beings, power does not give right ; but in God 
it always does, and in the highest degree : because in him 
power is never exerted without infinite wisdom and goodness. 
Right and obligation are correlative. The obligation of man 
therefore to obey the wtlII of God, and love him supremely, is 
of the highest conceivable nature ; because it is imposed and 
enforced by the immensity of God's power. We may observe 
farther, that the state of man is such, that he is accountable to 
God for his conduct. A thorough conviction of this truth, is of 
the highest importance ; for without it there can be no steady 
principle of virtue, no proper sense of the authority of moral 
obhgation. It is not enough to tell men that they are account- 
able ; their understandings must be convinced. It has been 
shown, in the first part of this discourse, that the nature of God 
is the foundation of moral obhgation ; and in the second, that 
this obligation reaches to all the powers of man. There cannot 
be a greater absurdity than to suppose that such a being, pos- 
sessed of moral sense, reason and freedom, capable of virtue and 
vice, should be brought into existence, and be left without a 
law to govern him and make him accountable. Virtue and vice, 
from theii' nature, suppose and imply a law, a standard of right. 
The same is apphed in moral agency. If therefore we admit 
that man is not accountable, we admit that there is no law,— 
no supreme excellence that originates it — in short, that there is 
no God. This of all absurdities is the greatest ; because, if 
there is no God, then there must at some period have been 
universal non-existence : And this must always have been 
the case ; because that which has no existence can never pro- 
duce any. The whole created universe therefore is a direct 
proof of the existence of God ; unless we say that the universe 
created itself ; which is the same as to say that nothing can 
produce something, or that an effect can exist without a cause. 
We must therefore either admit all the absurdities of atheism, 
or that there is a God. If we admit this, we admit man's ac- 
countabihty ; for all the arguments which prove the former^ 
prove the latter. 

The reasonableness of supreme love to God will farther ap- 



ANNIVERSARY SERMON. 269 

pear from the wonderful displays of divine love in redeeming 
man from a state of impotence, depravity and guilt. In the 
sacred scriptures, the love of God in sending his son to die for 
the expiation of human guilt, is exhibited in a light calculated 
to disarm man of his enmity, to emancipate him from the slav- 
ery of sin, and to inspire him with the most sublime and ardent 
affection : '• God," says an inspired apostle, '* commendeth his 
love towards us, in that while we were yet sinners Christ died 
for us." The angels in heaven are so affected with the love of 
God towards man, that they desire " to look into" the word of 
redemption. To this all the works of creation and providence 
are but subordinate parts. If men are bound to love God be- 
cause he is their creator, how much more because he is their 
redeemer ! Thus whether we consider the nature of God, the 
nature and state of man, or the divine wisdom and goodness 
displayed in our redemption, we shall find abundant reasons for 
exercising supreme love to God. 

From the preceding discourse, we may come to the following 
important conclusions — 

First, — Thdt the moral perfection of God is the foundation 
of moral obligation. 

Second. — That the essence of true virtue, or holiness, con- 
sists in supreme love to God. 

Third, — That there is no possible method of obtaining true 
and permanent happiness, but by the practice of virtue ; be- 
cause nothing else can assimilate us to God, and make us par- 
takers of his nature. 

These three principles place morality on its proper basis, and 
present the only motives of sufficient efficacy to enforce the 
practice of virtue. 

We have reason, therefore, to conclude, that those systems 
of moral philosophy which omit the doctrine of future rewards 
and punishments are erroneous. The Christian system derives 
its superiority over all others, not so much from the novelty of 



270 ANNIVERSARY SERMON. 

its doctrines as from the weight of its motives. It encourages 
virtue and represses vice, by appeahng to considerations of 
eternal importance. On the one hand, it presents to the ob- 
stinate impenitent transgressor, divine justice arrayed in all the 
terrors of almighty power, and on the other holds out to the 
humble penitent believer the atoning blood of the Son of God. 
Divine truth proclaims to the world, that " the hour is coming 
when all that are in their graves shall hear the voice of the Son 
of God, and shall come forth, they that have done good unto the 
resurrecton of life, and they that have done evil unto the resur- 
rection of condemnation." Without embracing, believing and 
obeying the gospel, we can have no hope of eternal life ; but 
must remain in a " fearful looking for of judgement and fiery 
indignation." The death and resurrection of Christ have dis- 
persed the shades which hung over the valley of death, and dis- 
closed the glories and terrors of the eternal world. All that is 
great, sublime and terrific, on earth, in heaven or hell, is now 
addressed to the hopes and the fears of men. Those, therefore, 
who reject the gospel, and spurn at its precepts and its disci- 
phne, must be deemed irreclaimable, and be consigned to de- 
struction. 

We may in the next place observe, from the preceding dis- 
course, the wisdom and goodness of God in making such ample 
provision for the happiness of man, by endowing him with such 
various and noble powers. How great are his obligations to use 
and improve these as God requires ! The great objects of all 
human knowledge are, God, nature and man. For the knowl- 
edge of the first, especially of what are called his moral perfec- 
tions, we must recur to divine revelation. None but God can 
know and comprehend his own nature and his own determina- 
tions ; and none but he can disclose them. In our knowledge 
of nature and man, we must be guided wholly by facts, by ob- 
servation and experience. In nature we see what God does ; 
in revelation, why he does it. The study of nature is the best 
preparation for the reception of revelation. In both is display- 
ed the same great good and incomprehensible being. The only 
ground on which we can infer his existence from his works, is 
their incomprehensibility. For if we could comprehend the 



ANNIVERSARY SERMON. 271 

works of God, we could measure them by our own powers, and 
resolve them into a being no greater than ourselves. The visi- 
ble universe is a theatre of effects ; and we know that these 
must proceed from adequate causes. Nature is an external dis- 
play of God. Powers and causes are hidden and invisible ; and 
the proper objects of intellect. In studying into the works of 
nature, we should avoid speculative hypotheses, and be guided 
wholly by facts. But we must remember that facts are not 
principles, and that mathematical demonstrations are no proof 
of the existence of physical powers. Reason is the proper in- 
strument of truth. In the investigations of physical science, 
experiments merely furnish the mind with facts. These, reason 
arranges, compares, combines and reduces under facts still more 
comprehensive ; and these facts we are obliged to consider as 
ultimate, until some more general can be discovered. In all 
parts of nature, within and without us, above and below, we 
meet and feel the invisible God. Through all his works, all is 
life and motion ; a 'ceaseless circle of change, of generation, 
growth, decay, dissolution and revivification. Nothing is lost, 
— nothing annihilated. Matter was never seen in a state of rest 
— this would destroy it — It came from God in a state of activ- 
ity : For that whose essence is life and energy ,could never pro- 
duce inactivity ai d death. The whole of visible nature is com- 
prised in matter and motion. These have their origin in one 
common principle ; and that principle is power. This originates, 
modifies, preserves, perfects and dissolves every portion of tem- 
porary nature. This is a world of effects, and these are all pro- 
duced by motion. Without this we could exercise no power 
over the smallest particle of matter, nor could the laws of na- 
ture exist. The splendid and ever varying phenomena of the 
universe would cease ; and all its various parts, with their ma- 
jestic decorations, would revert to their original source. How 
far creation extends from its lowest to its highest limit, we can- 
not determine ; but this we know, that God has reserved to 
himself, as his peculiar prerogative, the power of creation and 
annihilation. Within these limits all that is called nature exists, 
all her laws operate, and all her phenomena are displayed. Na- 
ture is a system of living laws, flowing from God ; and in their 



^72 ANNIVERSARY SERMON. 

endless variety of combinations and results, producing all possi- 
ble effects, except those which are peculiar to almighty power. 
What an august, what a magnificent scene is nature ! Wheth- 
er we survey this lower world with its appendages, or ascend 
into the vast ampitheatre of God above us, we are filled with 
astonishment and awe, and are forced to exclaim, " These are 
thy works, parent of good. Almighty !" 

From the preceding discourse we may farther remark, that the 
internal constitution of man is wonderfully adjusted to his ex- 
ternal condition. Designing wisdom is no where more legible 
than in the laws which bind man to all parts of nature. The 
same principles of order and symmetry, of succession and va- 
riety, which govern the powers and operations of mind, extend 
to the larger portions of the universe, pervade their structure, 
and bind them together in one vast and magnificent system. 
The innumerable forms of matter which occupy this august spec- 
tacle, astonish the mind of man, and while they spread delight 
through all his faculties, proclaim him the priest and the mon- 
arch of nature. The whole visible universe is the hand-writing 
of God, and speaks a language known in wisdom's ear, and cal- 
culated to excite man's curiosity, to rouse all his powers into the 
most vigorous exertion ; to elevate and expand his hopes, and to 
accelerate his course along the shining path of immortality. 

God has connected man with all his works, and exhibited in 
his constitution an epitome of the universe. By his corporeal 
frame, he is allied to matter ; by his animated organization, to 
the whole vegetable and animal world ; by his moral and intel- 
lectual powers, to God and all intelligent beings. What a no- 
ble being is man ! What an exalted station does he hold in the 
works of God ! What vast extremes does he combine in his na- 
ture ! On the one hand, he ranks with the highest angel that 
burns before the throne of God, and on the other with the mean- 
est worm that crawls on earth ! His present state is the begin- 
ning of his existence, and is rapidly passing away. He is trav- 
elling on to higher hopes and brighter scenes. Though he is 
doomed to sink into the dust and become a prisoner of the tomb ; 
yet when the wheels of time shall have run their destined course ; 
when nature shall have arrived at the utmost limit of all her 



ANNIVERSARY SERMON. 273 

processes and powers, the voice of God will call him forth to 
share his lofty destiny and run an endless race of glory. We 
may rest assured that God will suffer none of his works to be 
lost ; and however they at present groan under the bondage of 
corruption, yet they will assuredly be brought into the glorious 
liberty of the children of God ! To this result, all the laws 
which obtain through the whole sphere of fallen nature, directly 
tend ; and are holding on in their undeviating course, through 
the innumerable mutations, compositions and dissolutions inci- 
dent to a state of disjoined and warring elements. The materi- 
al universe is a mere temporary creation, which will soon pass 
away. It is rapidly rolHng on through innumerable changes to- 
wards its final destiny. Nature will then throw off her visible 
material form, assuming her spiritual properties, and shining in 
all her primeval glory. Time and place, succession and change 
will then cease ; for these are merely the adjuncts of visible and 
tangible forms ; and can have no existence when these forms 
shall cease, — when God from heaven shall proclaim, " Behold I 
make all things new." 

Let us not then despond, though we are subjected to vanity. 
God has subjected us in hope. Let us rather exult and rejoice, 
knowing that he who has promised is the unchanging God of 
truth. Let us cheerfully submit to him ; and view with raptu- 
rous emotions, the grand and majestic march of nature, through 
the long train of fleeting, changing and perishing forms of visi- 
ble matter, until we reach our ultimate limit in a disencumbered 
and renovated world ; in " an inheritance incorruptible, unde- 
filed, and that fadeth not away." The laws of nature will then 
have accomplished their ultimate destination — matter will be 
transmuted and sublimed into its primordial principles — every at- 
om will have found its station, and will be poised on its immoveable 
centre — the conflicting elements of fallen nature will be harmo- 
nized under the empire of love ; pain, and sorrow, and death 
shall no longer have a name or a place in the works of God — 
and one boundless tide of glory shall pervade the universe ! 

35 ^^^^ 



m 



DISCOURSE, 



DELIVERED IN THE 

CHAPEL OF SOUTH CAROLINA COLLEGE, 
JULY 4th, 1819, 

AT THE REQUEST OF THE INHABITANTS OF COLUMBIA. 



■h 



The South Carolina College, August 4thj 1819. 

TO JAMES T. GOODWYN, ESQ. INTENDANT OF 
THE TOWN OF COLUMBIA. 

Sir,— To the request of the Town Council, and Cit- 
izens of Columbia, for the publication of my discourse 
on the 4th of July last ; I readily give my assent ; and 
beg leave through you to express my most grateful ac- 
knowledgements, for the honor conferred on me on this 
occasion. 

Accept my thanks for the very polite and delicate 
manner in which you have communicated the wishes of 
my fellow citizens. 

With great esteem and respect, and with best wishes 
for your prosperity, I subscribe myself your friend and 
servant, 

J. MAXCY. 






A DISCOURSE. 



"HE HATH NOT DEALT SO WITH ANY NATION; AND AS FOR HIS JUDG- 
MENTS, THEY HAVE NOT KNOWN THEM. PRAISE YE THE LORD."— 147 Psalm, 
20th verse. 

The blessings which God bestowed on the ancient IsraeHtes 
were great and pecuhar. After dehvering them from bondage 
imposed by a cruel tyrant, he carried them as on eagles' wings, 
through innumerable displays of mercies and judgments ; he 
instructed and governed them by miraculous interpositions of 
his providence ; and after discomfiting all their enemies, tri- 
umphantly established them in the promised land. Here, he 
most signally interposed on their behalf ; and was indeed, their 
shield in war, and their sun in peace. He dealt not so with 
other nations. These, left to their own direction, wandered 
into distant quarters of the globe ; lost the knowledge of their 
creator ; debased and dishonored themselves, by the vilest su- 
perstitions and the most enormous vices. On the other hand, 
the Israelites, chosen by God for his peculiar people, were taken 
under his immediate government and instruction, and furnished 
with laws religious, moral and political, which at length elevated 
them to the highest pitch of national prosperity. Well might 
the royal Psalmist say, " He hath not dealt so with any nation ; 
and as for his judgments, they have not known them. Praise 
ye the Lord." 



280 A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tH, 1819. 

That men should praise God, for national, as well as for in- 
dividual blessings, is the injunction of reason and the dictate of 
revelation. Ingratitude is of all vices, the most vile and de- 
grading. It robs man of all those humane and generous feel- 
ings, of all those high an ennobling sentiments, which impart 
value to his nature and dignity to his character. So great is 
our attachment to the present world ; so busily are we occupied 
in visionary scenes of happiness, or hurried on in the delusive 
pursuits of ambition and of wealth, that we are perpetually lia- 
ble to incur the reproach of ingratitude to God, unless reminded 
of our duty by some stated occasion, or by some unusual dis- 
pensation of divine providence. Hence, G od, in order to secure 
the fidelity of his ancient people, and to keep alive a sense of 
their obligations, enjoined upon them a solemn festival to be 
kept in commemoration of their deliverance from bondage. 
Yet notwithstanding this, and innumerable displays of power 
and goodness ; this highly favored people were frequently guilty 
of forgetting God, their great benefactor. How often does he 
remind them of their rebellion ! How often does he impress up- 
on their minds their wonderful emancipation, as an event which 
ought forever to secure their grateful obedience, which ought 
for ever to be celebrated with enthusiastic devotion ? let us ap- 
ply these things to ourselves. An inspired Apostle says, they 
were written for us, for examples. Has not God wrought for 
us a wonderful deliverance ? Has he not crushed our oppressor ? 
Has he not smitten the Dragon who lies in the great waters, 
whose limbs stretch through every ocean, whose voice shakes 
the ends of the world ? God has indeed been our refuge and 
strength ; a very present help in time of trouble. He has not 
only delivered us from servitude ; but crowned us with innu- 
merable blessings. His almighty hand planted the seed of lib- 
erty, as an handful of corn in the top of the mountains, whose 
fruit shakes like Lebanon. Calling to mind the events of our 
past history, and comparing them with those of other nations, 
we are obliged to adopt the language of our text, and say, ^' He 
hath not dealt so with any nation." As we are assembled to 
commemorate the nativity of American freedom, and as this 
auspicious anniversary has fallen on a day peculiarly consecrated 



A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tH, 1819. 281 

to God, we may with propriety call to mind some of the great 
scenes through which he has conducted us, and recount some 
of the distinguished blessings he has conferred upon us, as a na- 
tion. It becomes us as men and as christians, to bow before 
his holy altars ; to adore his divine majesty, and to present our 
grateful offerings. It becomes us to venerate that great Being 
whose beneficent providence has watched over and guided the 
destinies of our beloved country ; it becomes us to recognize 
our great obligations for his goodness, to humble ourselves be- 
fore him for our manifold sins, and to confide in that unchang- 
ing mercy, which embraces and blesses the universe. It becomes 
us, in all things to notice and acknowledge, the providence, and 
the power of God. He is indeed the governor among the na- 
tions. In the pages of inspiration, he is every where described 
as the great and universal agent in the affairs of men. So per- 
fect is his providence, that the hairs of our heads are all num- 
bered ; even a sparrow does not fall to the ground without his 
notice. Well then may we believe^ that the great concerns of 
the world, the foundation of nations, the rise and fall of states 
and kingdoms ; all their pohtical concerns, and their various 
fortunes in peace and in war ; are all under his immediate con- 
trol and direction. Strictly and truly speaking, he is the sole 
agent in the universe. The smallest deviation from this princi- 
ple will land us in atheism. Hence the scriptures represent 
God, as exalting and depressing nations at his pleasure. To 
one he gives great and good men ; wise and just rulers, prudent 
counsellors ; upright judges, heroic warriors and eloquent ora- 
tors ; to another he raises up an haughty and relentless tyrant, 
and entails on it all the evils of slavery and oppression ; of in- 
justice and cruelty. What a contrast to this do We find in the 
writings of uninspired men ! Here, all things are referred, to 
mere secondary causes, to subordinate agencies, and God is 
overlooked and forgotten. 

Fortunately for this country, many of its first occupants were 
religious men. They acknowledged God in all things. Confid- 
ing in his providence, they left their native shores ; flying from 
oppression ; braving the dangers of the ocean ; and heroically 
urging their course, towards this vast and howling wilderness* 
36 



282 A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tH, 1819. 

Here they arrived ; here they bowed the knee to the God of the 
ocean and the land. To him they piously committed their fu- 
ture destinies. As soon as they had obtained a settlement, they 
established schools of learning and places of public worship. I 
mention these things, because, it is principally to these that we 
are indebted for all our prosperity. An ignorant people would 
have submitted to any encroachment from the parent state ; an 
irrehgious and wicked people, never could have formed an union 
to resist oppression. The American people could with confi- 
dence appeal to God in the hour of danger. They did appeal. 
Their cries ascended and came before the Almighty. He gra- 
ciously interposed for his oppressed and suffering people. He 
raised up among them a band of great, wise and virtuous pa- 
triots, to preside and direct in council ; a band of skilful, virtu- 
ous and heroic captains, to command in the field and direct the 
storm of battle. The interposition of divine providence, was 
eminently conspicuous, in the first general congress ; what men, 
what patriots, what independent, heroic spirits ! chosen by the 
unbiassed voice of the people ; chosen as all pubHc servants 
ought to be, without favour and without fear ; what an august 
assembly of sages ! Rome in the height of her glory, fades be- 
fore it. There never was in any age, or nation, a body of men 
who for general information, for the judicious use of the results 
of civil and political history, for eloquence and virtue ; for true 
dignity, elevation and grandeur of soul, that could stand a com- 
parison with the first American Congress ! See what the peo- 
ple will do when left to themselves ; to their unbiassed good 
sense, and to their true interests ! The ferocious Gaul, would 
have dropped his sword at the hall-door, and have fled thunder- 
struck as from an assembly of Gods ! Whom do I behold ! an 
Hancock, a Jefferson, an Adams, a Henry, a Lee, a Rutledge ! 
— Glory to these illustrious spirits ! On you depend the desti- 
nies of your country ; the fate of three millions of men ; and 
of the countless millions of their posterity ! Shall these be 
slaves, or will you make a noble stand for liberty, against a pow- 
er whose triumphs are already co-extensive with the earth ; 
whose legions trample on thrones and sceptres ; whose thunders 
bellow on every ocean ? How tremendous the occasion ! How 



A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tHj 1819. 283 

vast the responsibility ! The President and all the members of 
this august assembly take their seats. Every countenance tells 
the mighty struggle within. Every tongue is silent. It is a 
pause in Nature, that solemn, awful stillness, which precedes the 
earthquake and the tornado ! At length Demosthenes arises ; 
he only is adequate to the great occasion, the Virginian Demos- 
thenes, the mighty Henry ! What dignity ! What majesty ! 
Every eye fastens upon him. Firm, erect, undaunted, he rolls 
on the mighty torrent of his eloquence. What a picture does 
he draw of the horrors of servitude and the charms of freedom ? 
At once he gives the full rein to all his gigantic powers, and 
pours his own heroic spirit into the minds of his auditors ; they 
become as one man ; actuated by one soul — and the universal 
shout is ^' Liberty or Death !" This single speech of this illus- 
trious man gave an impulse, which probably decided the fate of 
America. His eloquence seized and moved the assembled 
sages ; as the descending hail storm, bursting in thunder, rend- 
ing the forests, and shaking the mountains. God bestows on 
nations no greater gift, than great and good men, endowed with 
the high and commanding powers of eloquence. Such a man 
as Patrick Henry, may on some great occasion, when the happi- 
ness or misery of millions depends on a single decision, render 
more important services to a nation, than all the generations of 
a century. 

When we look back to the state of the Colonies at the time 
of the revolution, we are struck with the unanimity, the wisdom 
and firmness which pervaded their councils and decisions. 
This may in part be accounted for from their previous habits, 
and the privileges they had enjoyed under their several charters. 
As to rights, a perfect equality reigned among the people. No 
established clergy, no privileged and haughty nobility, trod on 
their necks and robbed them of the fruits of their labors. The 
people were all enhghtened, they knew their rights ; they had 
from their first settlement exercised the power of granting their 
own contributions to the parent state. This power was secured 
to them by royal charter ; and they well knew that the moment 
they were deprived of it, they must be slaves. This was evi- 
dently the only alternative. — Besides this the colonies had not 



284 A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tH, 1819. 

only been just ; but generous, liberal, far beyond their resources, 
to the parent state. In reading their history we are astonished 
at the large sums of monies, and the numbers of troops, raised 
to aid the military and naval enterprises of Britain. These 
were all forgotten by a proud and haughty ministry. No man 
can read the history of the colonies for ten years previous to 
the revolution, without indignation and astonishment. The 
British government seemed to be bound in a spell of infatuation. 
They turned a deaf ear to the remonstrances of the colonies ; 
they spurned their petitions. The colonies merely demanded 
their accustomed rights ; they dreaded the approaching unequal 
contest ; they ardently desired a reconciliation with the parent 
state. This was undoubtedly the general sentiment. During 
the session of the assembly of Virginia ; news suddenly arrived 
that the stamp act was repealed. So great was their enthusiasm, 
that they voted a statue to the King ! Nothing was easier than 
a perfect reconciliation with the colonies. When intreaties, re- 
monstrances, and humiliq^ions had been exhausted on one side ; 
and injuries, oppressions and insults on the other, no resource 
was left but an appeal to the God of armies. The Americans re- 
lying on the justice of their cause, with confidence committed 
it to that God, who rules among the nations, 

We now approach a most tremendous crisis. The colonies 
were then but thinly peopled ; they had made but little pro- 
gress in national wealth and improvement; they were destitute 
of military skill, and of almost all the munitions of war ; they 
had no general government over them ; no supreme controlling 
power, to develope the resources of the country ; to organize 
and direct their armies. Never did a people engage in a con- 
test apparently more unequal and desperate. But we must re- 
member, that all they held dear, all that they deemed life worth 
contending for was at stake ! They loved liberty and hated 
slavery ; they loved their country ; and worshipped their God ; 
they loved life ; but feared not death ! They well knew " that 
the race was not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong." 
The disparity in the contest was, to human view, as great as 
that between the shepherd of Israel and the gigantic Goliah. 
Our fathers trusted in God, and were not confounded. He in- 



A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tHj 1819. 285 

spired them with wisdom, with unanimity and courage. Each 
individual felt a deep interest in the destiny of his country, and 
merged all private considerations in the public good. Every 
countenance betrayed the deep concerns that swayed within. 
Then might you see the people through all parts of the land 
forsaking their customary labors, resorting to the house of 
prayer, and pouring out their cries before the God of the armies 
of heaven. He heard, and pitied his afflicted people. 

The peculiar favor of heaven was highly conspicuous in the 
great men, who by their wisdom and valor protected and saved 
this oppressed and injured people. Deaf must be that ear, 
which does not hear the divine voice, blind must be that eye 
that does not see the divine hand, in the call and appointment 
of Washington. In the complicated difficulties and dangers of 
that crisis to discharge the duties of commander-in-chief, re- 
quired an union of talents, virtues and qualifications, rarely co- 
incident ; and each of which, on common occasions, would have 
added splendor to the hero, or the sage. All those lofty quali- 
ties which constitute a consummate general, met in our beloved 
Washington. To the cautious prudence of Fabius, he united 
the intrepid heroism of Alexander. Cool and self-possessed in 
the midst of dangers, he never lost, nor gave an advantage. So 
small were his resources, so difficult to be replaced when ex- 
hausted ; so critically was he often situated, that the salvation 
of his country seemed to depend on a single movement. No 
man believes that such a commander as Alexander, Caesar, or 
Bonaparte, could have saved America. More was to be gain- 
ed by prudent delay, by skilful movement and self-denial ; 
than by active offensive operations. Other great commanders 
have been supplied with numerous well disciplined armies, and 
all things necessary to successful warfare. If they lost one army, 
another was ready. With Washington, every thing was differ- 
ent. Literally speaking, he had to create an army. With such 
means as he possessed ; in the face of a superior foe, command- 
ed by the ablest generals ; it would have been high honor, to 
have kept the field, or to have escaped destruction ; but to ob- 
tain victory, to secure the freedom of a nation was the height of 
glory, a destiny more than human. We look up to such great 



286 A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tH, 1819. 

and good men as Washington, as to superior beings who 
seem to be occasionally sent into the world to adjust its con- 
cerns : and exalt its destinies. While Washington w^as nobly 
sustaining the contest in the field, it was of the highest im- 
portance to the United States, to obtain from foreign nations, 
an acknowledgment of their independence. Here the goodness 
of God is eminently conspicuous in raising up such men as 
Adams and Franklin. The former was sent to Holland ; the 
latter to France. To discharge the high trust committed to 
them, required no ordinary degree of heroism, talents and skill. 
In crossing the ocean, they were every moment, liable to fall 
into the hands of an implacable foe, who they well knew would 
bring them to an ignominious death. They nobly dared, and 
succeeded. When Mr. Adams arrived in Holland, it is said, 
that he was so narrowly watched by the British minister, that 
he was obhged to conceal himself, to avoid assassination. At 
length he published his famous manifesto to the states of Hol- 
land. In this masterly performance, he so clearly demonstrated 
that the true interests of Holland, required the recognition of 
the independence of the United States ; that he w^as forth- 
with admitted to a public audience ; and received the honors 
due to his rank. This success gained in spite of the utmost ef- 
forts of the British minister ; was a noble triumph ; and while 
it crowned with immortal honor, its author ; it rendered incal- 
culable service to his beloved country. The illustrious Franklin, 
was not less successful. His great talents, his extensive knowl- 
edge ; his weight and dignity of character ; his venerable age ; 
his ardent benevolence, and truly patriarchal manners ; gave him 
an ascendency at the French court ; which perhaps, was never 
obtained by any other minister. What a spectacle is it, to behold 
this venerable philosopher, at the age of eighty, devoting all his 
time, and great talents, in the most laborious services, for his be- 
loved country ! Much of his success was undoubtedly owing to his 
personal influence with the King. When the French minister^ 
had reported that a loan to the extent required by Dr. Franklin, 
could not be granted ; the King apparently, out of delicacy to 
the Doctor's feelings, presented him with a large sum out of his 
private purse, and declared, that he meant it not as a loan, but 



A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tH5 1819. 237 

as a gift to the United States. The hearts of Kings and Em- 
perors are in the hand of God, and he turns them as he pleases. 
Among the States who had the honor to furnish eminent persons 
for the pubhc service, South Carohna holds a distinguished 
rank. Her illustrious Laurens and Pinckney, will hve in the 
hearts of their countrymen while patriotism and hberty, have a 
votary on earth. It becomes us to do justice to our great patriots 
and heroes ; to the founders of our national freedom. It has some 
how happened that the successful warrior has ranked higher in 
the admiration of mankind than the philosopher and statesman ; 
and yet the services of the latter, have been as eminent and ex- 
tensive as those of the former. There is a splendor and pomp 
in warlike achievements, which dazzle the imaginations of men ; 
so that they will admire and applaud even an Alexander, while 
robbing and murdering unoffending nations. Fear is the great- 
est and most universal weakness, to which man is subject. He 
who can rise above it, and bid defiance to danger and death ; 
seems more than mortal. Besides, there is something animat- 
ing and attractive in the movements of armies ; in the noise 
and tumuli of battle, in the shouts of victory and triumph. 
Danger bestows a dignity which nothing else can ; especially 
whe^n it decides the fate of nations. No man stands so high in 
the esteem and veneration of all America as Washington ; and 
yet perhaps, it may with truth be asserted, that the services 
rendered by Adams and Franklin ; though less splendid, as from 
their nature they must be ; are nevertheless not less meritorious ; 
not less important, than those performed by Washington. Had 
it not been for those services, perhaps Washington himself, with 
all his greatness could not have achieved what he did. When 
news arrived of the success of our ministers in France and Hol- 
land, how did our prospects brighten ! How did the hopes of 
Washington himself revive ! How did every heart from Maine 
to Georgia gather fresh strength ? Every countenance bright- 
ened with renovated hope ; as when the shout of victory burst 
forth from Saratoga, from Princeton, and York Town ! By the 
divine blessing on our counsels and arms, independence was at 
length secured. 

A situation can scarcely be conceived more perilous, than that 



283 A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tH, 1819. 

of the United States at the close of the war. Our army dis- 
banded, unpaid, irritated at their wrongs and privations, spread- 
ing their discontents among the people ; our general govern- 
ment possessing powers merely advisory ; thirteen independent, 
sovereign slates, with separate and opposite interests ; different 
views and clashing councils ; immense public debts to be provid- 
ed for and paid ; the pressure which had heretofore held them 
together removed ; our old enemy eagerly watching to profit by 
our divisions and dissensions : All these presented a complica- 
tion of difficulties, and dangers, with which human wisdom, and 
human power, seemed incompetent to struggle. To prescribe 
a form of government which should possess adequate powers, 
without interfering with the sovereignty of the individual states ; 
which should command resources to establish public credit, to 
cherish and protect our exterior relations and interests ; to bind 
the independent members into one great confederacy of rights 
and powers ; to secure an impartial administration of justice ; 
these imposed a task which required the wisdom and skill of all 
the sages of ancient and modern times. Herculean as was the 
achievement, it was accomplished. Those great and good men, 
who had conducted us to victory and independence, assisted in 
our councils, and under the smiles of heaven, blessed this- na- 
tion with the federal constitution. The great Washington was 
placed at the head of the new government. It was believed 
that no other individual possessed sufficient weight of character ; 
to inspire confidence, to reconcile contending parties ; to impart 
energy to laws ; to revive public credit, and give dignity to pub- 
lic character. With infinite reluctance did this illustrious man 
leave his beloved retirement and commit himself to the storm of 
public life. When convinced by the judgment and intreaties 
of the wisest and best men in America ; he nobly sacrificed his 
private wishes to the public good ; and gave himself to his be- 
loved country. Under his fostering care, united America, rose 
like the primitive world from chaos ; she arose, *' fair as the 
moon ; clear as the sun ; and terrible as an army with banners." 
The thunder ceased to roar ; the tempest that had swept through 
the land, died away in silence ; the heavens shed their selectest 



A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tHj 1819. 289 

influence ; and the abodes of freedom smiled in renovated 
beauty. 

Philosophers and statesmen of foreign nations considered the 
establishment of the federal government as a hazardous experi- 
ment, founded in visionary speculation. The sentiment had 
prevailed that repubhcan institutions, were utterly impractica- 
ble over an extensive territory and numerous population. It was 
boldly asserted that the powers of our government, were incom- 
petent to the great ends of political association ; that the first 
convulsion from within, or violence from without, would crum- 
ble it to atoms ; prostrate our towering hopes, and leave us a 
prey to civil war, or foreign subjugation. How completely these 
ominous predictions, were falsified by subsequent experience, 
need not be told in this assembly. 

God has blessed us with a succession of great and good men 
to preside over our national government, whose wisdom, fidelity 
and success, have confounded the proud dogmas of philosophy, 
repelled the assaults of insulting tyranny ; and erected to liber- 
ty and glory, a monument, which will forever defy the earth- 
quake and the tempest. We are bound by the strongest ties of 
honor, of gratitude and interest, to preserve and to transmit to 
posterity, undiminished ; the rich inheritance, bequeathed us by 
the founders of American independence. But few of these it 
lustrious men remain to witness the noble effects of their coun- 
sels and toils ; and to confirm by their example, the principles 
which formerly swayed in their bosoms. Their great compatri- 
ots have been called home to exult in brighter scenes ; and the 
laurels which bloomed on their brows have ascended to flourish 
forever in the fields of the blessed. 

The blessings which the bountiful author of nature has pour- 
ed out on these United States, demand our most submissive 
obedience and grateful recollection. While the tempest of war 
has poured out its vengeance on the nations of the old world, 
while '^ the pestilence that walketh in darkness," hath shrouded 
them in the habiliments of wo ; our lines have fallen to us in 
pleasant places ; our fields have rejoiced in the gale of health, 
and our skies have smiled in the rainbow of peace. 
37 



1 



290 A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tH, 1819. 

If we reflect on the causes which have originated our govern- 
ment, which have sustained and given it its present pre-emi- 
nence, we shall discover abundant reason to confide in its per- 
manence, and increasing excellence. All the great rights of man 
in civil and poHtical society, are secured by our constitution ; 
powers sufficiently energetic are deposited in the supreme mag- 
istrate ; and their abuse anticipated by the frequency of election ; 
our judiciary independent, that it may be impartial ; and yet 
charged with the highest responsibility ; the sovereignty of the 
states defined and protected ; and full scope given, to call forth 
the ambition of all our citizens for the attainment of wealth, 
distinction and honor. While we behold most of the nations 
of the earth, involved in ignorance, degraded by superstition, 
and crushed under the sway of arbitrary power ; we behold our 
own enlightened by science, exalted and refined by religion ; 
adorned and blessed by freedom. Such is the universal diffu- 
sion of knowledge, that every individual feels a lively interest 
in the government, and watches with a jealous eye every en- 
croachment of power. Our government rests wholly on the 
opinion of the people. This opinion to be correct, must be en- 
lightened ; it must be founded on impartial examination, and ra- 
tional conviction. Hence appear the necessity and importance 
of rendering education and knowledge universal. Without 
these, a free government cannot exist. Bad and artful men can 
easily render themselves popular among the ignorant, for the 
purpose of personal aggrandisement. Intrigue and dishonesty 
find their resources in the region of darkness. They dare not 
" come to the light, lest their deeds should be reproved." Lit- 
erature and science, refine the manners, invigorate and expand 
all the social affections, and prepare men for the high offices of 
virtue and religion. None but an enlightened people can be free ; 
and such a people may be free forever. To this end nothing is i 
so important as a deep sense of moral and religious obligation. 
The people who fear and worship God, will certainly be just 
and benevolent to each other. Such a people will always sup- 
port a righteous government. 

To preserve the union of the states, is an object of the first 



1 



A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tH, 1819. 291 

importance, and of the highest necessity to the stability and 
permanence of our government. This has been deemed, especial- 
ly by foreigners, to be utterly impracticable. But we must re- 
member, that the people of these states do not look to a power 
from without to hold them together and to cement their union. 
An active overliving force from within ; an ardent love of their 
government as the creature of their power and the child of the 
affection ; a firm and universal conviction, founded on reason 
and experience, that all the great ends of the most perfect po- 
litical association, are embraced by their present constitution ; 
these constitute the strong bond, the all pervading moral force, 
which binds these states together, and constitutes them one 
mighty confederacy of rights, interests and powers. Like the 
wheels of Ezekiel these states derive all their life and energy 
from " the spirit within them." It has been asserted that the 
force of government cannot be felt over so vast an extent of ter- 
ritory, as the United States. Let us consider our local advan- 
tages. These present such facilities* for union and communica- 
tion ; that it seems as if providence had designed this western 
continent for one mighty republic. Look at the majestic rivers 
which roll their waters through every part of our country ; sur- 
vey the wide-spreading lakes and the oceans bordering upon us ; 
to these, add the advantages of canals ; and public roads, with 
our late improvements in navigation ; all these circumstances, 
by facilitating internal intercourse, do in effect, render the states 
contiguous. Such are our advantages for internal commerce, 
that these states can supply all the necessaries and luxuries of 
life ; they can grow up to a great, powerful and wealthy nation 
without the aid of external commerce. The means of inter- 
course, are so completely within our power, that our mutual 
wants may be supplied ; our mutual, though opposite interests, 
reconciled and promoted ; and what at first appeared like a 
source of discord may be converted into a bond of union. So 
great is our diversity of soil and climate, that all the valuable 
productions of the globe are within our Hmits. The great ex- 
tent of our territory therefore, instead of dividing, will unite us. 
The great modern improvement in navigation, has diminished 



292 A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tH, 1819. 

distance and time, and rendered the extremes of our country 
neighbours. 

Nothing will contribute more to our prosperity in peace, or to 
our security in war, than the means of easy and rapid transpor- 
tation to every quarter of our territory. To obtain this, no part 
of the globe presents such local facihties and such exhaustless 
resources for defence or commerce. By a kind and bountiful 
providence, we are so situated, that it is in our power to avoid 
the greatest evils of war. No foreign enemy can invade and 
pollute our soil. Our navies can confine him to the ocean ; and 
thus incalculably diminish the evils of war. This single circum- 
stance shows that our government have acted wisely in creating 
a navy, and in providing the means of its gradual increase. War 
even in its mildest form, is a most tremendous scourge. On the 
ocean, its evils are chiefly limited to the combatants. On the 
land its course is marked with ten fold horrors. The aged, the 
helpless ; the fond mother and her weeping infant ; fields stript 
of their verdure ; cities astending in flames ; the labors of art 
and of science suspended ; depravity stalking abroad, and open- 
ing her mouth against the heavens ; wide wasting pestilence, 
famine and death ; all the monuments of skill and of glory over- 
turned and defaced ; and the temples of the living God profaned 
and polluted ; the riches and toils and glory of ages, levelled in 
the dust and buried in ruin ; all these, the usual attendants of 
war, portray its horrors, and announce it the most terrific 
scourge with which heaven punishes the guilty nations. 

In the present state of human aflairs, it is vain, to expect an en- 
tire exemption from war. Its greatest evils, a kind providence 
has put it in our power to avoid. Let us avail ourselves of all 
our local advantages. Let us assiduously cultivate the arts of 
peace. Let us bring into activity, all the moral and physical 
resources and energies of our country, and render them subservi- 
ent to private and pubfic happiness. Let us learn wisdom from 
the errors and sufferings of other nations. Look around you ; 
cast your eyes over the ancient and modern world ; read their 
history ; it is the history of destruction and misery. The heart 
sighs and sinks at the gloomy retrospect. Let us hope that this 



A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tH, 1819. 293 

nation will form an honorable exception ; that amidst the lapse 
and desolation of ages, she will exhibit a bright scene on which 
the eye can fix with pleasure ; that her prosperity and her pow- 
er will rise on the basis of justice ; that " violence shall no more 
be heard in her land ; neither wasting nor destruction within 
her borders ; that her walls will be salvation, and her gates 
praise." 

Let us remember that righteousness exalteth a nation ; and 
that sin is a disgrace to a people. A wicked and corrupt peo- 
ple cannot expect to prosper. The present era, with respect to 
religion is truly auspicious. Never did there exist such ardor, 
such unanimity, such liberality in promoting truth and right- 
eousness. The literary, humane and religious associations form- 
ing in all parts of our country cannot fail to impart a salutary 
influence, and to promote the increase of virtue and happiness. 

Among the blessings with which God has favored this nation, 
that of perfect religious freedom holds a pre-eminent rank. 
The awful emblems of our redemption, are not profaned and 
prostituted to office, to wealth and power. As no one sect can 
domineer over another, all live in peace and harmony. In pro- 
portion as the civil power has interfered with religion, it has de- 
based and corrupted it. Religious estabhshments by introduc- 
ing a compulsory power, and exclusive privileges, promote hy- 
pocrisy, bigotry and worldly ambition. Such is the nature of 
true rehgion, if it exist at all, it must be free. " God is a 
spirit, and those who worship, must worship in spirit." All that 
human power can do is to make a show of religion. Fortu-^ 
nately for us, a cathohc and liberal spirit appears to pervade all 
denominations of christians. We have reason to believe that 
rehgion, has, for some time past, been gaining ground in these 
United States ; and a conviction of its value and importance, 
has become general, especially among the higher classes of 
society. Nothing could be more auspicious to our government ; 
for a people who do not fear God, will certainly not regard 
man. There seems to have been a simultaneous impulse on the 
religious world, to make one grand contemporaneous effort, for 
the dissemination of truth and righteousness. We shall feel the 



294 A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tHj 1S19. 

immense value of religion, to the welfare of society ; if we re- 
flect that there is an indissoluble connection between sound 
sentiment and virtuous practice. A people who possess a deep 
sense of moral obligation, and of the awful sanctions of religion 
will not be likely to revolt against government, nor to submit to 
its abuse. That amiable equality which Christ enjoined on his 
followers, is the first principle of genuine republicanism. ^'Call 
no man on earth your master." '' Let each esteem others better 
than himself." These two simple precepts, if universally felt 
and practised, would destroy all servihty and pride, all envy and 
contention ; and would substitute a ready and active compliance 
in the room of stern authority and reluctant submission. 

In her progress, forward, refinement and national wealth, 
united America, has displayed the energy and enterprise, which 
characterise, a free, industrious and virtuous people. In agri- 
culture, in commerce, and in all the useful arts ; her efforts 
have been crowned with success. The nature of her govern- 
ment is such, that it gives full scope to the enterprise and zeal 
of all her citizens. The tide of her population is rapidly rolling 
towards the west and the south ; the arts and the abodes of 
civilized man, succeed to the gloomy forest and the wandering 
savage. Here a soil, more fertile than that of Egypt, expands 
its bosom to the culivator's hand. Rivers more majestic than 
the Indus and the Nile, solicit the laboring oar, and bear on 
their currents the products and the reward of toil. Over these 
vast regions, where nature has slumbered for ages, in solitary 
grandeur, the Americn Eagle claps his wings and soaring west- 
ward, eyes the distant Pacific ; while in his beak he bears the 
peaceful olive, and in his talons the gleaming thunderbolt, he ex- 
ults in his rapid course ; he claims the skies and the earth as his 
own ; and on his lofty head, presents to the heavens, the bright 
constellation that adorns it. When these extensive western re- 
gions shall be filled with people, the whole habitable world will 
have been surrounded and settled by civilized man. This event 
will probably occur in the seventh grand Millenary from the crea- 
tion. Then the kingdoms of this world, will become the king- 
doms of our Lord. All nations shall bow to his scepter, all ene- 



A DISCOURSE DELIVERED JULY 4tH, 1819. 295 

mies shall fall under his feet. The bondage of corruption will 
then be dissolved, and man delivered from vanity, will rise 
into the glorious liberty of the sons of God. He shall no longer 
behold the earth withering under the blast of death, but fanned 
with the gales and watered with the streams of Paradise. He 
shall no longer tremble at the flaming cherubimic sword, but 
shall put forth his hand, and eat of the Tree of Ufe, and live 
forever ! 



.•*^ 



^1 



ADDRESS, 

DELIVERED TO THE GRADUATES 

OF 

RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE, 

AT 

COMMENCEMENT, 

SEPTEMBER 3, 1794. 



38 



AN ADDRESS, 



You, Gentlemen, are now stepping into the great world, 
where you must soon act for yourselves. The eyes and the 
hearts of your friends are fixed upon you. Consider, therefore 
attentively, the difficulties to which you may be exposed ; that 
if they arrive you may surmount them with courage, or bear 
them with resignation. The passions of youth spread a thous- 
and unreal charms over the objects of sense and the prospects 
of fancy : Hence we are liable to numberless deceptions. As 
we behold the world decorated in ornaments, the splendid dress 
of imagination, we are inconsiderately hurried through a vast 
field of objects, in pursuit of new pleasures, which serve no 
other purpose than to fascinate and perplex, to allure and dis- 
appoint. Such is the ardency of our passions, such is their 
tendency to excess, that a reiterated succession of disgust and 
mortification cannot, but for a short interval, rob the objects of 
our pursuit of their deceitful charms, and teach us to place our 
affections on that alone in which true happiness is to be found. 
Hence appears the necessity of cultivating our reason, and of 
subjecting our passions to its control. The capacity of im- 
provement forms a principal distinction between man and the 



300 AN ADDRESS DELIVERED TO THE 

lower orders of animated nature. There is a certain degree of 
improvement, beyond which the constitution of their nature for- 
bids them to proceed. Their situation is commensurate with 
their natures. Though the objects about which they are con- 
versant are perishable, yet they are such as fill their capacities, 
and satiate their desires. But man rises above the present 
scene of things. Unconfined by the bound of the world, or the 
the flighf of time, his ardent soul rushes down the long range 
of eternity, rolling over millions of ages, discovering new, but 
happy scenes of existence. As he possesses nothing here with 
which he is satisfied, his only happiness in this world consists in 
the desire and pursuit of higher attainments. His soul can be 
satisfied with nothing less than a reversion to God, and a com- 
plete absorption into his nature. Strive, therefore, to make 
great and rapid advances in knowledge and virtue, that you may 
excel men in those things in which men excel the brutes. Con- 
form yourselves to those laws which God has estabhshed and 
revealed in the gTeat kingdoms of Nature and Grace. 

Take care of your minds, your passions and your bodies. 
These constitute that sphere in which God has appointed every 
one to exercise dominion. If this dominion be invariably sup- 
ported, it will elevate man to the original glory of his nature ; 
and by restoring that harmony which once subsisted between his 
internal frame and his external condition, will deluge his soul 
with an unceasing tide of bliss. Man, it is true, is in a fallen 
state ; but that state is the best possible for the exercise of vir- 
tue. If no obstacles were to be removed, no difficulties to be 
surmounted, no enemies to be conquered ; where would be mag- 
nanimity ? Where would be perseverance ? Where courage ? 
If no powers of darkness to be opposed, why dress ourselves in 
the armour of light ? Were we borne through the world on 
the pinions of an eagle, or did our way lay through a field of 
roses, heaven would lose half its charms. 

If, therefore, you meet with difficulties in the subsequent pe- 
riods of life, if you find yourselves pressed by the iron hand of 
adversity, indulge not that pusillanimity which censures because 
it cannot understand, and complains because it cannot alter the 



I 



GRADUATES OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE. 301 

allotments of infinite wisdom. Repose the highest confidence in 
the Supreme Being ; always believing that wisdom and good- 
ness are concealed under the darkest veils thrown over the de- 
signs and events of his providence. Remember, that " all things 
work together for good to them that love God." Remember, 
that no length of time, no distance of place, no change of cir- 
cumstances, can frustrate the purpose of his will, or mar the 
beauty of his plan. If you are willing to be at his disposal, and 
to be conformed to his laws, you will find all his perfections 
mansions of safety and delight. But if you rebel, if you trans- 
gress, you arm heaven against yourselves. 

Should any of you assume the character of a minister of the 
gospel, let me advise you to form your faith immediately from 
the sacred scriptures. Emancipate your souls from the force of 
prejudice, annihilate all attachments to particular systems, exalt 
yourselves to a noble independency of thought ; and the glo- 
ries of the go^el will burst upon you in their full effulgence. 
Suffer men to advise you, but not to think for you. If you 
consult the works of men for the acquirement and establishment 
of your religious sentiments, you cannot do justice to yourselves 
till you have consulted the whole : but before you have accom- 
plished this, you will find yourselves embarrassed amidst ten 
thousand jarring schemes, and will be as much puzzled to learn 
divinity here as you would language at Babel. The design of 
revelation is to unfold to men the true God, acting according to 
the principles of his nature. This design is brought forward in 
the sacred pages. The character of the great Supreme is there 
portrayed with such plainness, that every unbiassed mind must 
understand ; and with such majesty, that every candid heart 
must feel. An acquaintance with your Creator, by enlivening 
all the sensibilities of nature, will inconceivably enhance the 
blessings of hfe ; and by inspiring you with confidence, will 
produce a firmness and serenity of mind, which neither the ad- 
versities of time, nor the flight of ages can destroy. 

Let not the peculiarities of your religious faith confine your 
benevolent affections and exertions within the narrow limits of 
a party. Neither let a cynical moroseness, nor a fanatical zeal. 



302 AN ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE 

impoverish your hearts, and rob you of the elegant commerce 
and rational enjoyments of human life. The sour scowl of a 
hypocrite is as offensive to heaven as the open profanity of an 
infidel. The present age is the age of reason and philosophy. 
It knows no government but freedom, no sovereign but God. 
The huge fabric of ecclesiastical tyranny, long supported by 
gloomy superstition and Wind fear, is tumbhng in ruins. The 
beauty of true religion will not much longer be deformed by the 
intrusion of civil power, nor her shining mantle torn by the rash 
hand of persecution. The black heavens are rolling away with 
a great noise, and a firmament of hght blazes on the w^orld. 

In all your intercouse with men, be plain, benevolent and 
candid. Never stoop to that mean artifice, which requires a 
continual effort of concealment to preserve in the minds of oth- 
ers an opinion of your integrity. Suffer not your feet to be de- 
coyed from the path of rectitude, by the splendid baits of am- 
bition, nor your hearts to be corrupted by the inc^onsiderate vio- 
lence of party rage. Let judgment and decision in public af- 
fairs mark all your conduct. This will not only require, but it 
will secure esteem and confidence. He who " halts between 
two opinions," whose ardor for popularity rages with such vio- 
lence as to suppress the suggestion of an honest, unprejudiced 
mind ; he who prostitutes public justice to private emolument, 
who sacrifices his judgment to his ambition ; he will become an 
object of contempt ; and by exciting suspicions in all will se- 
cure the attention of none. Let your conduct, therefore, be al- 
ways upright ; that your character may appear fair and unblem- 
ished in the eyes of the public. 

You, gentlemen, go from this institution, with the best wishes 
of its patrons and officers. You have the pleasure to reflect, 
that you leave behind you a fair example which has secured to 
you the affection and esteem of all your instructors. The dili- 
gence with which you have pursued your studies, the peculiar 
regard you have discovered for the laws of this college, lead us 
to expect and to wish the continuance of your friendship. We 
doubt not you will feel interested for the prosperity of the place 
of your education. Do not imagine that your present discon- 



WW. 



6RADUATES OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE. 



303 



nection with this institution, will diminish our affection, or stifle 
any exertions in our power to assist you in rising to honor and 
respectability. May the path of your future life be luminous 
with virtue. May every promotion with which you meet, be 
the reward of merit, and be brightened by a monument of true 
glory. Impressed with these sentiments, Gentlemen, it is with 
a reluctant pleasure I bid you farewell. 



AN 

ADDRESS, 

DELIVERED TO THE GRADUATES 

OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE, 

AT THE ANNIVERSARY COMMENCEMENT, 

IN THE BAPTIST MEETING-HOUSE 
IN PROVIDENCE, 

SEPTEMBER 5, 1798. 



39 



To THE HONORABLE JOHN BROWN, ESQ. 

The following address is, with great respect for his 
public generosity, eminent patriotism and liberal pa- 
tronage of Rhode Island College, most respectfully in- 
scribed, by his obliged friend and very humble servant, 

JONATHAN MAXCY. 

Providence, September \Uh, 1798. 



AN ADDRESS. 



You, gentlemen, have the singular fortune to complete the 
course of your collegiate education at a period the most alarm- 
ing and interesting that the world ever saw. Principles and 
conduct prevail, which threaten destruction to those institutions 
of religion and government, to which mankind are indebted for 
all the blessings of civilized life. In that part of Europe where 
the altar has been profaned, where the bands of society have 
been burst asunder, where the most endearing connexions hav^ 
been exchanged for purposes of worse than brutal association — 
the passions have been wrought up to such a paroxysm of rage, 
that they have set at defiance the sacred obligations of religion 
and justice ; have proclaimed open war against the Almighty, 
and covered the earth with blood and murder. There you be- 
hold tigers and wolves, in human form, sparing neither age nor 
sex. To them a Supreme Being is a chimera ; immortality, is 
unconscious sleep ; and future responsibihty, the frightful off- 
spring of superstition. There the hydra of despotism, riding on 
her iron car, gnashes her bloody jaws, and growls destruction 
to the world. From this horrid spectacle, turn off your eyes to 
your native country, where laws are regarded, where govern- 
ment is equally administered, where the constituted authorities 
are respected, where the God of heaven is worshipped; and let 
your full souls rise with an indignant determination to resist at 



v^v 



310 AN ADDRESS DELIVERED TO THE 

all events the intruding arm of foreign domination. When you 
see the pernicious effects of infidelity, atheism and unbridled 
ambition, learn to venerate and support those sacred institutions, 
which alone can render men fit subjects for moral and civil 
government. With a view to guard you against that irrehgious, 
haughty and vengeful spirit, which is striving to convert the 
world into a vast theatre of carnage and confusion;, permit me 
to recommend to your most serious attention the three follow- 
ing things, from the influence of which, I conceive, all moral im- 
provement is derived. 

First. Remember that there is a God. The belief of this 
truth is the only security of virtue, and the only barrier against 
vice. For if we say there is no God, we say there is no stand- 
ard of morality. We equalize virtue and vice, or rather we 
say there are no such things as virtue and vice. We at once 
annihilate all moral obligation, and with it all restraint on the 
sinful propensities and headstrong passions of man. It is truly 
astonishing that a rational being, who can endure a moment's 
reflection, should be an atheist ; and yet there are many who 
spurn at the idea of a God, and arrogantly tell you that the 
universe is not an effect, but a cause. Indeed if you disbelieve 
the existence of God, you must believe that there is no higher 
principle than matter. Of consequence, you must say matter is 
%ternal, its various modifications, animate and inanimate, are the 
result of an inherent central and circumferential power. In this 
case you will gain nothing, and will lose much ; for you will 
still be as much at a loss to account for this power and its ope- 
rations, as you will be to account for the existence of an eter- 
nal, intelligent, uncaused Being. If you admit the latter, you 
can account for the origin of all things in a consistent manner ; 
if you admit the former, you can never account for the existence 
of one Atom, or for one modification of matter. Atheism is of 
all doctrines the most uncomfortable and gloomy. It renders all 
moral and intellectual acquirements useless ; levels man to the 
brutal creation ; destroys all order, design and harmony, in the 
universe. If acted out in its genuine efliscts, it would convert 
the world into a theatre of confusion, violence and misery. 
Never, therefore, forget that there is a God. Let every breath 
you draw, and every object you behold, remind you of this truth. 



GRADUATES OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE. 311 

Secondly. Remember that you have souls ; and that these 
will never cease to exist. A denial of the existence of the soul 
as a thing distinct from matter, and of its immortality, is a nat- 
ural and necessary consequence of a denial of the existence of 
God. For if there is no higher principle in the universe than 
matter, what we call the soul is merely the result of animal or- 
ganization. In this view the soul must be considered as a 
quaUty wholly dependent on a particular disposition of matter. 
Derange that disposition, and you destroy the soul. In this 
view the fate of man and brutes is the same. Both are matter, 
and both destroyed by decomposition. In short, the doctrine 
of a material soul amounts to this, man has no soul. God has 
so formed you, that you are obliged to rely on the veracity of 
your senses. If you distrust the evidence of these, or renounce 
it, you have no standard of certainty left. Your external senses 
inform you of what exists without ; your internal senses, of what 
exists within. To doubt in either case, is to do violence to na- 
ture. You have the same kind and degree of evidence, there- 
fore, that an operative, thinking substance exists within you — 
as you have, that any material body exists without you. Mat- 
ter makes itself known to you by its qualities. The soul becomes 
acquainted with itself and its existence, by internal sense ; by 
the knowledge it gains from without, and by its operations con- 
cerning that knowledge. The soul has as direct a perception 
of itself, as it has of any object whatever. To doubt, therefore, 
whether you have souls, is to doubt whether any thing exists. 
The qualities of the soul appear to be totally different from the 
qualities of matter. The soul can originate motion and thought ; 
it can remember, examine, choose, refuse, reflect, judge and 
decide. Matter can do nothing of a similar nature. It is of 
itself inert. It exhibits not the most distant appearance of 
thought or volition. If then the qualities of matter and those 
of the soul are so different, there certainly is the highest reason 
to believe that they are substances totally different in nature. 
The soul appears to be a single, indivisible principle. The parts 
into which it has been usiially divided, ought to be considered 
not as if they existed as parts, but as the different operations of 
the same self-active principle. Whether this principle will con- 



312 AN ADDRESS DELIVERED TO THE 

tinue to exist after the dissolution of the body, cannot be ascer- 
tained without the aid of revelation. The dread which the soul 
has of annihilation ; its dissatisfaction in the present state ; its 
ardent desire after happiness ; its capacity of unlimited improve- 
ment; the absurdity of supposing, that God would bestow 
powers, and destroy them as soon as they begin to energise ; 
the unequal fate of virtue and vice in this world ; the consid- 
eration that man answers no determinate purpose here ; these 
things render the separate existence of the soul highly probable. 
Revelation alone assures and confirms immortality to man. In 
the sacred pages, a distinction is clearly made and kept up be- 
tween body and soul. God is stiled ^'the God of the spirits of all 
flesh." Paul speaks of "the spirits of the just made perfect." Job 
says, "there is a spirit in man." David says, "into thy hand I com- 
mit my spirit." Christ said to his disciples, "a spirit hath not 
flesh and bones." Stephen, when stoned to death, cried, " Lord 
Jesus, receive my spirit." The Saviour certainly taught that 
there was a difference between spirit and matter, when he said, 
" fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the 
soul." In short, if you examine the scriptures, you will find, 
that the inspired writers uniformly keep up this distinction on 
which I am insisting ; and that their faith was, that the soul 
would survive the dissolution of the body; that death was not 
an annihilation of existence, but only a change in the mode of 
it. It is of the highest importance that you believe this doctrine ; 
for without it, you lose the influence of all those motives which 
give vigor and worth to human actions. If you admit the idea 
that your existence will terminate with the present life, your 
love of virtue and hatred of vice will abate ; you wiU resign 
yourselves to the blind impulse of passion, and will direct all 
your actions by present gratification. As you will have nothing 
to anticipate, the immediate impulses of your feehngs, indepen- 
dent of all consequences, will engross your attention. Hope 
and fear are the strongest propensities by which man is actuated. 
The first is directed to the reward of virtue ; the last to the 
punishment of vice. If you, then, take away the prospect of 
immortality, you take away the chief principles on which moral 
motives operate, or you weaken those principles to such a de- 



GRADUATES OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE. 313 

gree as to render them useless. A disbelief, therefore, of the 
soul's immortality, contravenes the constitution of nature. It 
is not right, therefore, to say, as some philosophers do, that ev- 
ery appearance in nature is against the future existence of the 
soul. The contrary is so far true, that you can scarcely investi- 
gate the sinful cause of any thing in this world, without taking 
into view its connexion with another. If you regard your own 
interest, or that of society, never depart from the doctrine of the 
soul's immortality. The consequences of a behef in the oppo- 
site doctrine are so manifestly pernicious, that you may rest 
assured it cannot be founded in truth. 

Thirdly, Not only remember that you are immortal, but that 
you are accountable creatures. It is impossible for God to form 
a rational being, and not bind that being under moral law, so 
long as he shall continue to exist. This law flows from the ab- 
solute perfection and supremacy of the divine nature. When 
w^e say that God is infinitely amiable, it is the same as to say 
that he is to be infinitely loved. Moral obligation, therefore, 
arises from the nature of God ; and, like that, is immutable and 
eternal. Do not imagine, that any change in your state or dis- 
positions can exempt you from a responsibility for your conduct. 
The mutability of creatures, can make none in God. Always 
remember your relation to him. A sense of this will lift you 
above the groveling pursuits of vice, and furnish a perpetual 
excitement to the cultivation of those virtues which alone can 
render you worthy and happy. Nothing can be more absued, 
nothing more pernicious in its consequences, than the sentiment 
that men are not amenable at the tribunal of God ; for if they 
are at liberty to conduct as they please, without a liabihty of 
being called to an account, it at once becomes indifferent to 
them what character their actions assume. In fact, a disbehef 
in future responsibility, is the genuine oflfspring of atheism ; and, 
like that, must excite the abhorrence of every virtuous man. 
Let me urge upon you the importance of the preceding senti- 
ments, respecting the existence of God, the immortality of the 
soul, and future responsibihty. The world is more indebted to 
the prevalence of these three doctrines, for its order and good 
government, than to all other causes. These doctrines, as to 
40 



AN ADDRESS, &C. 314 

their full extent and influence, are peculiar to revelation. If 
you discard them, you enervate every virtuous sentiment, you 
undermine the foundations of society, and level the human to 
the brute creation. These ideas, I have reason to hope, from 
your past conduct, will continue to influence you in future. 
You are now entering on a vast, dangerous and tumultuous thea- 
tre. A scene opens for the utmost exertions of all your abili- 
ties and talents, in support of religion and liberty. Wherever 
Divine Providence may cast your lot, acquit yourselves like men, 
determined to be virtuous and free. 

I now give you, gentlemen, my parting benediction, wishing 
you may live honored, respected and beloved in this world ; and 
in the next, shine like the stars in the firmament forever. 



-^ 



AN 

ADDRESS, 

DELIVERED TO THE CANDIDATES FOR THE 
BACCALAUREATE 

OF 

RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE, 

AT THE 

ANNIVERSARY COMMENCEMENT, 

SEPTEMBER 2, 1801. 



AN ADDRESS. 



To you, Young Gentlemen, who are now taking your leave 
of this Institution, your future prosperity and promotion must be 
highly important and interesting. The education you have ac- 
quired, is, with most of you, the capital, with which you ven- 
ture forth into the commerce of life. Let prudence, industry, 
and economy, be your constant attendants. Hitherto, while in- 
trenched in the narrow limits of collegiate life, you have carried 
with you the ardent wishes, and engaged the tender anxieties of 
parental affection. You are now entering on a different scene, 
where you must more immediately direct and control your own 
conduct. Of course more anxiety will follow you ; and more 
honor, if you are wise and successful. Those principles and 
actions, which have raised others to eminence and distinction, 
you may expect will raise you. It is safe to follow the dictates 
of experience. This alone ought to be your guide in all cases 
which fall within its limits. You may consider human life, as 
you do the science of natural philosophy, in which no real and 
useful progress can be made without the aid of experiment. 
Let me advise you always to adhere to the plain dictates of 
common reason ; and never suffer your minds and hearts to be 
perverted, by that modern new-sprung light, which teaches its 
disciples, that every thing which has heretofore been esteemed 
v^sdom, is folly ; that all those civil and religious institutions, 



318 BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 

to which mankind are indebted for all their moral and intel- 
lectual improvement, are systems of fraud, founded on ignorance 
and supported by prejudice. The men who advocate these 
ideas, exclusively arrogate to themselves the pompous title of 
philosophers. They consider Newton, and Locke, and Bacon, 
and Boyle as mere children. They cannot endure such sim- 
pletons, for they were weak and credulous enough to believe 
there is a God. These masters of the new school, consider it as 
a great stigma upon their dignified independence ; as a great 
sin against the unahenable, sacred rights and liberties, of their 
" material frames ;" to receive instruction from the wisdom of 
past ages, or from any thing except their own unerring reason. 
They cannot endure the voice of history, because this relates 
what ought not to have happened. They consider the present 
race of men, as a species wholly different, from all those grove- 
ling beings, who have existed in the past ages of the world. As 
the nature of man is found to be wholly different from what it has 
always appeared to be, new models of society and government 
must be adopted ; for as the scene is wholly reversed, every thing 
which has formerly been useful, must now be pernicious. Hence 
the world has been filled with a thousand visionary schemes, an- 
nouncing the perfectibility of man, the age of reason, the em- 
pire of philosophy, the grave of immortaUty and the divinity of 
matter. With the patrons of these schemes, it is too vulgar, 
to believe what has heretofore been believed. They must have 
something new, something altogether of their own making ; it 
must be wholly detached from common sense, it must be mon- 
strous and prodigious, or it is not philosophy. Novelty to a 
certain class of mankind, has charms too alluring to be resisted. 
Hence it is that the modern apostles of moral and political de- 
struction, obtain proselytes to rash adventure and dangerous in- 
novation ; proselytes, who hke themselves, would break up the 
great deep, and inundate the globe. Let me advise you, 
never to relinquish the maxims of experience and the plain dic- 
tates of common sense. These will be to you an ark of safety. 
When every thing around you is perishing in the flood, the top 
of Ararat will sustain you, and the dove bearing the branch of 
the olive, will fly to your windows. 



BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 3 1*9 

I must in the next place guard you against a disposition to 
neglect the opinions which are formed concerning your conduct. 
Indifference to censure and applause, is the index of a heart 
stubborn in its own pride, and hardened by its own wickedness. 
He who can assume to himself so much importance, as to see 
no connexion between his own prosperity and the approbation 
of the wise and virtuous, exhibits the most striking evidence, 
that he is travelling in the broad road of destruction. The 
principle he avows and practises, is a principle of unjustifiable, 
savage and ferocious independence. No one can stand cdoof 
in insulated solitude ; no one has a right to sunder the hga- 
ments which bind him to the social body ; no one is fortified 
with such a mound of majesty and glory, that can need no aid 
and fear no danger from his fellow mortals. That barbarian 
pride, which disclaims all external control, and sees no value 
except in individual importance ; is the enemy of all domestic 
and public tranquility. It is the fruitful source of the most 
daring enormities ; tends to prostrate every useful establish- 
ment; and if generally indulged, would convert the whole 
civilized world into a theatre of contention, of rapine, and 
murder. Be careful therefore to cultivate a decent and proper 
respect for the opinions that will be formed concerning your 
conduct ; and never allow yourselves, to believe that the estab- 
lished customs of society can be slighted with impunity, or sub- 
verted without destruction of every thing valuable. 

I would recommend to you, never to treat with contempt and 
censure those who possess talents different from your own, or 
who profess different sentiments, provided those sentiments do 
not infringe the essential laws of morality, and discard the sol- 
emn injunctions of religion. There is a variety no less exten- 
sive and beautiful, in the intellectual and moral world, than in 
the natural. God has seen fit to bestow on different individu- 
als, different kinds and degrees of mental and corporeal endow- 
ments. The sentiments and characters of men are originated., 
varied and formed, by innumerable circumstances, which ap^ 
pear to be merely accidental. From different associations, em- 
ployments, and habits, which are all unavoidable in such a 
world as this, men necessarily derive some peculiarity in their 



320 BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 

modes of thinking, reasoning and judging. Perhaps, if the dif- 
ferences, oppositions and inequahties in the intellectual system 
were destroyed, it would have no more beauty to an eye that 
could take it in at one view, than this earth would, if all those 
varieties which now render it so charming, were levelled down 
and blended in one common surface. The beneficent Creator 
has bestowed different kinds and degrees of talents on his crea- 
tures, that they might all feel their mutual connexion and de- 
pendence ; that the intellectual universe might exhibit a com- 
plete whole, in nothing deficient, nor redundant, displaying an 
endless succession of harmonies, neither fatiguing the mind 
with too much uniformity, nor perplexing it with too much va- 
riety. You should, therefore strive to ascertain the rank allotted 
yourselves as well as others in the great and beautiful disposi- 
tion of divine providence. You will then be disposed neither 
to censure others for not being like yourselves, nor to find fault 
for not being what you are. If you see many above you, it is 
probable, you will always see more below you. You ought 
neither to envy the former, nor to despise the latter, for a little 
reflection will convince you, that you have infinitely more reason 
to be grateful for being what you are ; than to repine for not 
being allotted a more conspicuous station. After having ascer- 
tained the kind and degree of talents you possess, you will be 
able with much greater certainty, to cultivate them with success 
and to render them more useful to yourselves and others. The 
bestowments of divine providence have not made a greater 
difference in men, than the aids and embelhshments of educa- 
tion. The man who possesses the greatest abilities unimproved 
by study and application, is a giant without skill and dexterity. 
A dwarf with a pebble, may level his cumbrous limbs in the dust. 
Whether your talents are great or small they will be of but little 
use without proper cultivation. No one can excel in things to 
which his talents are not adapted, nor is there scarcely one out 
of all the myriads of human nature, who cannot excel in some- 
thing. The only art is, to find out what kind of capacity yoa 
possess, and to apply to such studies as are calculated to improve 
it. You cannot toil to advantage against nature ; but if you 
add proper disciphne to true genius, the result will be glorious. 



BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS.^^^^^ 321 

On this subject, I must address you in the elegant language of 
Cicero ;— '' Cum ad naturam eximiam atque illustrem, accesserit 
ratio qusedam conformatioque doctrinae ; tum illud nescio quid 
prseclarum ac singulare, solere existere." The same great and 
wonderful man ascribes all his abilities in eloquence to study 
and proper discipline. The different branches of learning bear 
an intimate relation not only to one another, but to the different 
faculties of the human mind. These different faculties in order 
to be cultivated must be employed in their proper provinces, 
and about their proper objects. Hence it is obvious that in 
order to excel, to be really eminent in any one branch of learn- 
ing, it is necessary to be acquainted with all. But that you may 
render your abilities and acquirements, really useful; that you 
may acquire sohd glory and permanent renown, it is essential 
that you keep in view the great ends of all arts and sciences. 
These are ; to furnish the mind with information ; to give its 
powers their highest perfection ; to form the heart to rectitude 
and goodness ; and thus to enable man to discharge the duties 
of life in that mode which will contribute most to the general 
advantage of society. You will do well, in all your studies and 
pursuits to keep these things in your minds. 

In the systems of modern education more attention seems to 
have been paid, to enlighten the understanding, than to melio- 
rate the heart. This is certainly a great defect ; for eminent 
talents and extensive acquirements, unaccompanied with moral 
goodness, want that splendid attracting superiority which virtue 
alone can give. Neither the mind nor countenance, can be truly 
beautiful, unless suffused with that mild light, that ineffable re- 
sistless glory which beams from an uncorrupted heart. Man is 
not less elevated above other animals by his moral and religious 
capacity, than by his rational faculties and scientific acquire- 
ments. The moral sense with which he is endowed adds an 
incalculable value to his existence. Were he insensible to the 
beauty of virtue and the deformity of vice ; were he not endow- 
ed with a consciousness that his knowledge of right and wrong 
inheres in an immortal principle ; he could neither enjoy the 
transports of divine benediction, nor ascend to the sublime con- 
templation of the Supreme Being. Man's taste for moral ex- 
41 



322 BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 

cellence lays the foundation for an endless progression in per- 
fection and felicity. It is to this taste that the great law of God 
is immediately addressed, requiring of man perfect and un- 
changing love. Were this law universally complied with, all 
would be happy, because their affections would be fixed on an 
object possessing infinite excellence. Imperfection would be 
lost in improvement ; sin and sorrow would cease ; all hearts 
would bound towards the source of infinite goodness, and the 
whole intellectual universe would forever brighten under the eye 
of its Creator. Let me then beseech you not to neglect the 
proper exercise and cultivation of those moral powers which 
you have received from the hand of divine beneficence. 

To this important end, I must recommend to you the most 
serious and careful attention to the sacred scriptures. In these 
alone are contained those truths and doctrines, the belief and 
practice of which, are essential to your highest happiness in time 
and eternity. Among the numerous reasons for recommending 
to you the scriptures, I shall on this occasion mention but two. 
The first is, that the scriptures alone teach the real nature of 
God. A belief in his existence has pervaded all nations from 
the remotest antiquity. This belief, however, seems not to have 
produced any solid advantage to mankind, since it left them 
wholly ignorant of the nature of God. When philosophers be- 
gan to reason concerning the divinity they all agreed, except 
a few, as to his existence, but as to his nature disagreed with 
each other no less than with truth. Their utmost researches 
added nothing to what had already been believed. So true is 
it, that " the world by wisdom knew not God." This single 
circumstance is sufficient to evince to an unprejudiced mind the 
necessity and propriety of a supernatural revelation. To the 
researches of the ancient philosophers respecting the Supreme 
Being, the deists of modern times have added nothing valuable, 
except what they have derived from that revelation which they 
profess to reject. While they are ignorant, as all must neces- 
sarily be, of the moral perfections of God, while destitute of 
revelation, they can ascertain no immutable law of conduct for 
rational creatures, nor can they exhibit any definite motives to 
excite to the practice of virtue. Of course pure deism as to the 



BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 823 

high end of man's existence, has very little advantage over athe- 
ism ; perhaps it has none ; for though it adftiits a God, it cannot 
tell what he is ; it cannot explain his nature. This cannot be 
much superior to that scheme which admits no God, and of 
course cannot explain any thing. The truth is, none but God 
could know his own perfections and designs, and none but he 
could disclose them. In the great and splendid fabric of the 
universe, God has hung out the ensigns of his infinite wisdom 
and power ; but he has not here exhibited those perfections 
which it is most essential for man to know. The light of na- 
ture does not afford sufficient knowledge to guide mankind to 
happiness, nor does it present a mode of instruction adapted 
to their state and capacity. The great body of mankind, never 
contemplate the causes and principles of things; they never 
examine the mechanism, order and harmony of the universe. 
To gain from these any considerable knowledge of God, requires 
time, application, much study and great talents. This is evident 
from the consideration, that so few of the ancient philosophers, 
though possessed of superior genius, acquired any tolerable no- 
tions concerning the Deity. The light of nature, or what is 
called natural religion, wholly fails in the knowledge of those 
things most essential to man. Did any one ever discover from 
the works of creation, the nature of sin and holiness ; the nature 
of acceptable worship ; the certainty of a future state of rewards 
for the righteous, and punishments for the wicked ? Did any 
one ever discover from the works of creation the divine placa- 
bility, that God could consistently pardon sin, and that he would 
actually do it, on any conditions ? In these respects the light of 
nature is '' darkness visible." We can conceive of no way ex- 
cept by a direct revelation, in which we can know the moral 
perfections of God ; the dispositions of his mind, and his deter- 
minations concerning sinful beings. To know these things is 
surely of the highest importance ; and these are no where to be 
known except from the scriptures. A child, by reading these 
a few hours, can obtain more knowledge of the true God, than 
the numerous phalanx of heathen philosophers, did during their 
whole lives. I am persuaded, young gentlemen, if you consider 
this subject attentively, you must admit the propriety and ne- 



324 BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 

cessity of revelation, and must acknowledge the excellency of 
that contahied in Ae bible. Here is a religion, plain, intelligi- 
ble in all its practical truths, accommodated to all classes of 
mankind, to every capacity, revealing the true God not only to 
the intellect, but to the heart. What would have been the 
language and conduct of Socrates and Cicero, if in the midst of 
their anxious researches after God, they had suddenly been fa- 
vored with the bible ? They would have clasped it to their hearts 
and wet it with their tears. Like Archimedes, when he discov- 
ered a geometrical truth, they would have run into the streets 
of Athens and Rome, exclaiming with gratitude and joy, " I have 
found it ! I have found it !" — I am persuaded, you can neither 
be willing to live nor die without the knowledge of the true God ; 
and I am equally persuaded that you can obtain this knowledge 
no where except in the scriptures. 

The second reason why I would recommend to you the scrip- 
tures, is that they alone inform us in what man's highest good, 
or happiness consists. This was one of the great points that 
was agitated in the schools of ancient philosophy. Daily expe- 
rience evinced that man not only possessed an invincible aversion 
to misery, but an inextinguishable ardor for happiness. To 
guard him against incessant confusion, errors and crimes, it 
seemed of the highest importance, to direct all his desires and 
exertions, towards certain objects capable of affording him grat- 
ification and jenjoyment. Hence opened a vast field for philo- 
sophic research and investigation. Ample opportunity vi'as 
afforded, for the exercise of the human mind in discovering the 
greatest good, and pointing out the method in which it could 
be attained. How ineffectual the exertions and researches of 
the philosophers, were, is very apparent from the single circum- 
stance that they placed man's highest happiness in nothing 
beyond the present life. Unassisted by revelation they knew 
not the rewards of virtue, nor the transports of immortal existence. 
They in general held it as a principle that the supreme good 
consisted in living according to nature, though their explanations 
of this principle were widely different. To live according to 
nature, as the Epicureans explained it, was to live in pleasure ; 
as the Stoics and Peripateticks explained it, it was to possess and 



il 



BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 325 

practise virtue, though they seem not to have known in what 
true virtue consisted. Their wise man, was their virtuous man, 
and their virtuous man, w^as their happy man. This same man 
whom they would style a Sage, they represented as perfect, un- 
moved by the calamities of life, void of sympathy, pity and 
compassion. In short he was destitute of every quahty which 
constitutes a really good man. Their scheme, like that of the 
Epicureans, was pregnant with ruin. The first, destroyed nature 
by too much severity ; the last, by too much indulgence. Man 
in his present fallen state unassisted by revelation, is ignorant of 
the supreme good. Of course he is guided by no fixed princi- 
ple, and is carried forward to no determinate end. He wanders 
like a bewildered traveller amidst a thousand objects which al- 
lure and dissappoint him. Mistaking the means for the end, he 
grasps with avidity the small portions of good attached to sensi- 
ble objects, and bounds all his happiness by the limits of the 
present world. How surprising it is, that men even in the 
present day should assert the sufficiency of the light of nature, 
though experience has always evinced it to be insufficient ! How 
surprising that reason should be held up as an unerring guide, 
when it has left the wisest of mortals in utter uncertainty, as to 
the true God, and the highest happiness of man ! That may be 
defined the supreme good, on which all other good depends. 
Of course man's highest happiness is no where to be found but 
in God ; in a resemblance and participation of the divine nature. 
For the mode in which men are enriched with these blessings, 
I must refer you to the sacred pages. You will there behold 
the divine life, assuming the empire of the heart ; fixing it on 
God ; controlling and puryfying its affections ; filling it with ce- 
lestial tranquility ; inspiring it with the animating hope of deliv- 
erance from evil ; and finally instating it in the mansions of 
eternal beatitude. Divine revelation presents to the soul, an 
object in every respect adequate to its most ardent desires after 
happiness. Infinite amiableness, worth and excellence forever 
inhere in the supreme God ; and when properly viewed, 
acknowledged and loved ; fire the heart with a rapture which 
neither the mifortunes of Hfe, nor the terrors of death can ex- 
tinguish. 



^. t 



326 BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 

Suffer me, Young gentlemen, in the close of this address to 
solicit your attention to the sacred scriptures, remembering that 
they alone reveal to you the true God, and prescribe the only 
mode, in which you can rationally expect eternal feHcity. Let 
it not be to you " condemnation that light has come into the 
world," but gratefully receive it and follow its brightness. It 
will present to you a most intimate and interesting connexion 
between the present and future world. It will guide your 
feet in the paths of peace ; it will teach you to derive all the 
importance of time from eternity ; it will dart its effulgence 
through the gloomy vale of death and display to your astonished 
view, the celestial Paradise blooming and brightening under the 
smiles of infinite love. While you look forward to that glori- 
ous state, be careful to make the precepts of the christian reli- 
gion, the rules of your conduct. You will then travel on through 
life without guilt, and through death without fear. It is safe to 
trust in a religion which has triumphed as Christianity has, over 
the most violent and powerful enemies. The arrows of infidelity 
and the swords of despotic power have been blunted against her 
adamantine shield. The sinews which hurled the former and 
wielded the latter have been crumbled; and the wounds they 
inflicted have called down the vengeance of Heaven. Remem- 
ber then, that you trust to a religion, which has sustained thou- 
sands, in the greatest dangers, in the darkest scenes of adversity ; 
and has borne them in triumph from the most tremendous con- 
flicts. 

I must now. Gentlemen, part with you. Be assured that I 
shall always reflect with pleasure on the honorable manner, in 
which you have acquitted yourselves in this College ; and I can- 
not but persuade myself that you will continue to cherish and 
respect the principles and science of morality and religion, 
which you have here imbibed. With a heart filled with parental 
affection, I request you to accept my most ardent wishes for 
your prosperity. Nothing will give me more real satisfaction, 
than to see you rise and shine among the brightest stars in the 
firmament. May you be favored with health, with peace and 
plenty ; may you obtain honor, reputation, fame, solid glory 
and immortal renown. May your lives be a catalogue of patri- 



Ik 



Mi 



BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 327 

otic, beneficent, generous, magnanimous actions ; may you in- 
crease in knowledge, in virtue ; in benevolence to man and in 
piety to God ; till you are prepared for the splendors of immor- 
tality ; till you are assured " that your names are written in 
heaven," and can behold them brightening in the margin of 
Eternity — Actuated with these sentiments, Gentlemen, I now 
bid you Farewell. 



* 



• 



• 



AN 



ADDRESS, 



DELIVERED TO THE GRADUATES 



OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE, 



AT THE 



PUBLIC COMMENCEMENT 



SEPTEMBER 1, 1802. 



42 



I beg leave to apologize to the public for the ap- 
pearance of this unfinished performance. The state of 
my health was such at the time in which I was obliged 
to compose it, that I was not able to collect and arrange 
the parts of it as I intended. The earnest solicitation 
of my former pupils, has compelled me to consent to its 
publication as it is. If it shall be of any use to them, I 
shall be satisfied. 

J. M. 



AN ADDRESS 



In addressing you, Young Gentlemen, on this occasion, I am 
impelled not by the force of custom only, but by inclination, 
and a desire for your prosperity. As you have now completed 
the course of your^iollegiate education, you are doubtless filled 
with no small anxiety, as to the business you are to pursue in 
life. That you make a right choice in this respect, is of the 
highest consequence to your welfare and happiness. For if 
you engage in pursuits, to which you are not strongly at- 
tached or to which your abilities are not peculiarly fitted 
you cannot expect to prosper. You ought therefore par- 
ticularly to consider your natural inclination, your acquirements 
and talents. To excel in a learned profession, you must not 
only love it, but you must admire it. You must prefer it with 
a partiality which borders on enthusiasm. None but voluntary 
worshipperi^can obtain a place in the temple of fame. 

You have now arrived at a most important period in life ; a 
period in which you must begin to reduce scientific acquirement 
to practical wisdom. The former is the result of study and at- 
tention ; the latter of skill in moral adjustment and proportion. 
By the former, you become learned ; and by the latter prudent. 
Both must unite in the formation of a character great and use- 
ful. Study and abstract speculation give the mind a range too 
uncircumscribed, and a direction too indefinite ; and of course, 
before they can be really useful, must be modelled and limited 




332 AN ADDRESS DELIVERED TO THE 

by observation and practice. You will find that many things, 
which in theory appear consistent and beautiful, will when 
brought to the test of experiment appear disjointed and deformed. 
A mere philosopher, a thorough-bred metaphysician, is of all 
characters the least qualified to judge of human affairs ; to or- 
ganize and bring into operation, extensive plans of utihty. He 
is at the same time of all characters the most tenacious of his 
own opinions, because to his own mind, they are speculatively 
true ; whereas to a plain practical man they are down-right 
falsities. Berkley could philosophize himself into a behef of 
the non-existence of matter, though he would shrink at a blow 
from the spit of his ancient master. Hume could so com- 
pletely abscond from common sense ; he could so far retire 
into the barren solitudes of metaphysics as to believe that he 
had neither body nor mind ; And yet with all his philosophy, 
he was obliged to eat and drink and sleep hke other men. Ab- 
stract studies pursued beyond a certain Hmit appear to produce 
a kind of mental insanity ; and instead of aiding the great end 
of learning, the perfection of nature, accomplish its destruction. 
Let me advise you to pursue that method and kind of study, 
which experience has proved most useful. For it is by this 
alone that the value of all learning must be ascertained. "Let- 
ters," says Lord Bacon, '' do not sufficiently teach their own 
use ;" but this is a wisdom beyond and above them, gained by 
observation. It is natural and reasonable to believe that those 
studies which men of genius taste and erudition have cultivated 
and admired, ought to claim a large portion of your attention. 
Though many of the moderns have been disposed to discard the 
study of ancient languages ; yet the beneficial effects of these 
have been so conspicuous in the greatest statesman, orators, 
poets, and theologians ; that we ought unquestionably to retain 
them and hold them as an important and essential part of edu- 
cation : Scarcely can you find an eminent man in modern 
times, who has not formed his genius, and acquired his taste 
and talents for executing works of immortal renown by a 
thorough study of the Greek and Roman classics. This cir- 
cumstance ought to have great weight with every young man 
who wishes to become eminently distinguished. It is objected 
that we have translations of the most valuable writers. It may 



GRADUATES OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE. 333 

also be said that we have Washington and Franldin in wax ; 
but we must remember that the great men are not here ; we do 
not here behold the saviour of his country nor the subduer 
of the skies. No study is so well calculated to bring forward 
and invigorate the powers of youth as the study of languages. 
This is a constant exercise of their invention, memory and judg- 
ment, and is better accommodated to their capacities than any 
other. The habit of attention, and the mental energy, which 
are acquired in the study of ancient languages, are of the highest 
importance. In these youth are obliged to apply and be in- 
dustrious, or they cannot succeed. They will get that thor- 
oughly for which they are obliged to labor, and will never forget 
it. I believe Dr. Blair's observation is true, '' that learning and 
good taste will flourish or decline, as the learned languages are 
cultivated or neglected." I would recommend to you the far- 
ther study of these in the best authors ; not that their ideas are 
more just or their learning more profound than those of many 
moderns, but because from them you will imbibe the spirit of 
true genius, and habituate yourselves to their superior elegance 
and beauty. Of course when you attempt to perform w^orks of 
genius, the fire of ancient times will kindle within you. The 
spirit of Homer and Demosthenes, of Cicero and Virgil, will 
thrill through every fibre of the soul. These Sons of Minerva, 
will rise from the dead, and appear in bodies new and incor- 
ruptible.. It is no small recommendation to the ancient lan- 
guages, that those who have been most thoroughly acquainted 
with them, have generally been most eminent in other branches 
of learning. 

You ought by no means to think of relinquishing the study 
of the arts and sciences merely because you have passed through 
the usual collegiate course ; or because your labors are chiefly 
to be employed in one profession. What you have already ob- 
tained, is merely to enable you to pursue farther and to greater 
advantage. One of the most difficult and at the same time 
most important acquirements, is a habit of attention, a power to 
command, arrange and connect your thoughts. This habit, 
how^ever, may be induced by proper discipline. For this pur- 
pose mathematical studies are recommended. They possess 



334 AN ADBRESS DELIVERED TO THE 

this peculiar and distinguishing property, that they exclude all 
operations of imagination. They are definite, closely connected 
in all their parts ; and bend the mind to truth by rigid demon- 
stration. The habit of attention and acuteness which you ac- 
quire in mathematical science, will accompany you in your other 
literary labors, and manifest itself in the productions of your 
own genius. 

If you design yourselves for any of the learned professions, 
you ought particularly to cultivate Logic and Rhetoric. These 
will prepare you for the field of contention. They will enable 
you to discipline your powers ; to call forth all your resources, 
and to display them to the greatest advantage. Logic will en- 
able you to convince, and Rhetoric, to persuade. The first is 
subservient to the understanding, the latter to the imagination. 
As Rhetoric is employed in forming agreeable images and raising 
pleasant emotions with a view to impress truth more forcibly on 
the mind, the study of this is generally preferred by the young 
to the study of Logic. The last however, forms a very valuable 
part of a learned education ; and will be rendered more inter- 
esting if it is preceded by that branch of Metaphysics which 
relates to the philosophy of the human mind. 

In the next place, if you wish to become capable of deep 
research and accurate investigation, you must apply to the study 
of natural philosophy. This noble science will teach you to 
explain the various phenomena of nature, by resolving them into 
the operations of original and universal laws. The seeming 
irregularities and disjointed appearances in the material system, 
stimulate curiosity to discover their hidden connections. The 
mind from its tendency to order and systematic arrangement, 
proceeds with pleasure in resolving particular facts into general 
principles ; ascertains the connections between these, until it 
renders the theatre of nature a coherent and magnificent spec- 
tacle. Here the philosophical enquirer becomes disembarrassed 
of vulgar prejudices ; feels his mind invigorated and enlarged ; 
beholds order and harmony springing out of apparent confusion ; 
and while he traces the final causes of things, is lead with grati- 
tude and w^onder to the great eflicient cause of all. Natural 
philosophy rightly pursued is Theology, and will prove one of 



GRADUATES OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE. 335 

the best helps to interpret divine revelation. This science of 
course is of vast importance because it respects you as rational 
and religious beings. 

Another branch of learning which I would recommend to 
your particular attention is Criticism. This respects all the pro- 
ductions of genius in the fine arts and teaches you to distinguish 
what is defective, what is decent and proper, grand, sublime and 
beautiful. Some have supposed that there is no invariable stand- 
ard of taste, and that criticism is left to fluctuate with the caprice 
of every individual. If this is the case how has it happened 
that certain productions of genius, have in every age and nation 
excited universal applause and admiration ? How has it happen- 
ed that all are pleased with the fine arts, if there are not certain 
fixed principles in human nature to which those arts apply, and 
with which they accord ? Why are we pleased with a certain 
degree of order and connection, of uniformity and variety, unless 
it is that these control, direct and influence within certain limits 
the train of perceptions and ideas in our own minds? True 
criticism is undoubtedly a rational science, founded on princi- 
ples in the nature of man. These principles, so far as they 
respect the sensitive branch of our nature coincide with those 
which govern in morals. He who studies criticism as a science, 
will observe the same refined and correct feelings springing up 
within him, as he observes excited and required by the precepts 
of moral philosophy. If in tracing the connection between the 
fine arts and those feelings which are excited through the eye 
and ear, we accustom ourselves, to distinguish what is beautiful 
and what deformed, what is proper and what is improper, we 
shall naturally transfer the same taste and the same habit into 
our researches concerning the propriety or impropriety of human 
actions. Hence the science of criticism is of vast importance 
as a support to morality, independent of the ornament and 
splendor which it enables true genius to display. When you 
can assign a reason for the pleasure you derive from the fine 
arts, your enjoyment is doubled ; because you experience the 
combined pleasures of judgment and sensibility. Hence Crit- 
icism occupies a middle station between the higher senses and 
the intellect. It unites sentiment and reason; enlivens and 
improves both. 



336 AN ADDRESS DELIVERED TO THE 

Another science, which occupies an higher station and which 
I would eai-nestly recommend to your attention, is, Ethics. The 
great end of this science is to bring all our affections and actions 
into subjection to the dictates of reason and the injunctions of 
revelation. To accomplish this, it unfolds the ground, the na- 
ture and extent of moral obligation ; points out the nature of 
virtue and vice ; ascertains the duties we owe to God, to our- 
selves and to our fellow-men in all the relations of solitude, do- 
mestic life, political and religious society. The habit of study- 
ing and investigating those things which respect you as moral ac- 
countable agents, will inspire you with an high sense of decency 
and propriety, which will add splendor to all your literary ac- 
quirements, and give a right direction to all your faculties. In 
your researches into moral philosophy, be careful not to depart 
from the principles of your own nature, for moral rules not con- 
formable to these are impracticable, and of course useless. In 
Ethics metaphysical speculations are of no consequence. They 
are tenants for life in the clouds ; and cannot like the philoso- 
phy of Socrates be brought down from heaven and established 
in cities and families. The consideration of your own powers 
and talents compared with your situation, must suggest the rule 
of duty and point out the force of obligation. We are so con- 
stituted that the moral sense accompanies reason in all its disqui- 
sitions about right and wrong, about virtue and vice. Though 
moral obligation is imposed on all rational beings, by the stand- 
ard of all perfection, yet this obligation can never exceed their 
abihty to perform. God can never require impossibilities of his 
creatures. The instant we perceive that an injunction exceeds 
our capacity, we pronounce it unreasonable and become dis- 
couraged. A mole cannot be censured for not taking in the uni- 
verse with its eye ; nor a gnat for not shading the orbit of Sat- 
urn with its wing. Man is neither so great nor so small as some 
have supposed him. He can neither comprehend infinity, nor 
does he sink below nothing. He has intellect and will, but he 
is hmited within a certain sphere. His duty so far as reason 
can go is to be deduced from a consideration of his powers, from 
fact and experiment. 

The next science which I would recommend to your particukr 



GRADUATES OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE. 337 

attention is Theology. This of all others is most important. It 
embraces your highest interests in life, in death, and in eternity. 
The sciences, I have already mentioned, seem calculated, by 
furnishing you with knowledge and mental energy, to give you 
a distinguished rank among men. Theology by inspiring you 
with just sentiments of Deity, will ally you to all his perfections, 
and give you assurance of an eternal inheritance in his kingdom. 
This exalted science, unfolds the existence, perfections, provi- 
dence, laws, designs and works of God. It teaches you what 
you must believe and what you must practice, to secure the di- 
vine approbation, and obtain eternal fehcity. Theology de- 
duces moral obligation from the absolute perfection of God, 
and enjoins the performance of duties by motives drawn from 
eternity. Human philosophy cannot stretch out an arm to sup- 
port and conduct you beyond the hmits of time. It exhibits 
you acting for a few moments on a narrow stage, and then loses 
sight of you forever. But divine philosophy exhibits you, while 
in this world as in the embryo of your existence ; and while it 
announces to you that you must dissolve and die, assures you 
by the most impressive proofs that, you shall rise to a state in- 
corruptible and interminable. The value and importance of man 
are no w^here seen but in the Hght of eternity. Here you behold 
him, moving forward in rapid progression ; enlarging in capaci- 
ty, and forever approximating the source of infinite perfection. 

I must recommend these things to your consideration, hoping 
that they will engage you in a vigorous pursuit of human and 
divine knowledge. The limits prescribed me on this occasion 
forbids me to enlarge. Before I part with you, I feel it my 
duty to declare in this public manner, that your moral conduct 
and hterary proficiency, have excited sentiments of the highest 
esteem and most cordial friendship in the hearts of those who 
have had the care of your education. May you rapidly pro- 
gress in knowledge and virtue. Remember at all times that you 
are in the hand of God ; that you are accountable to him for 
your conduct ; that your characters are forming for eternity, 
and that its joys or woes, must be your portion. Impressed 
with anxious sohcitude for your prosperity, I now, Gentlemen, 
bid you Farewell ! 
43 



AN 

ADDRESS, 

DELIVERED TO THE 
BACCALAUREATE 

OF THE 

SOUTH-CAROLINA COLLEGE, 

DECEMBER 2, 1816. 



AN ADDRESS, 



To you, young gentlemen, the present, is perhaps, the most 
important period of hfe. You are now about to commence a 
new career ; to engage in new pursuits ; to display yourselves 
on the great theatre of the world ; to bring into exercise the 
powers and the virtues which you have cultivated ; and to con- 
vert to private and public use, the learning and talents which 
you have acquired in the shades of retirement. On the deter- 
minations which you now make, and the plans of conduct which 
you now adopt, depend your future prosperity and honor ; or 
your ill fortune and disgrace. On your enlargement from the 
restraints and discipline of collegiate life, some of you are filled 
with joyous hopes, others with anxious fears, and all I presume 
with an honorable ambition. On you are fixed the eyes and 
the hearts of your parents and friends. From you they hope 
and expect much. And did they not from experience know the 
dangers to which you are exposed ; did they not know the real 
evils of life, their pleasure on this occasion would be free from 
intruding anxiety ; their pleasing anticipations of your future 
glory, would fill their minds with enchanting visions, and their 
hopes strong and free, would spring and smile, like a morning 
without clouds. — But alas, they know that there is no unmixed 
good in this world ; that all things here exist by opposition and 



342 BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 

correspondence ; that wherever there is good, there is evil ; 
wherever there is safety, there is danger ; wherever there is 
hope, there is fear ; in short, that human hfe is a feverish dream 
of honor and shame, of joy and sorrow; a compound of law- 
less ambition and brutal violence ; that in all nations, force ul- 
timately triumphs over justice ; liberty sinks into the gulf of ty- 
ranny ; that innocence is no security ; that virtue and learning, 
philosophy and eloquence ; all the glory and all the dignity of 
man, must at last bow to the sword of a Csssar, or a Bonaparte ; 
that such is the mixture of moral and physical ill, in all parts of 
nature, and in all human affairs, that after a certain period, evil 
begins to predominate over good ; death gains upon life ; ruin 
follows ruin, till the majesty of virtue is forgotten ; the splendor 
of genius extinguished ; the most sacred laws trampled under 
foot ; man degraded to a slave ; all the monuments of his art 
and skill defaced ; all his lofty intellectual and moral endow- 
ments sunk, degraded and lost in barbarism. But you must learn 
not to despair. But as human life is, evil does not on the 
whole predominate. A virtuous, wise and courageous man, will 
find much to hope for, and much to enjoy. Conscious of his 
own rectitude, he will possess peace within, and the light of 
immortality will dispel the horrors with which he is surrounded. 
You will do w^ell to remember, that the present world is a state 
of discipline, where you must struggle with adversity, to invig- 
orate your virtue ; where God has intermingled various degrees 
of pleasure and pain, of good and evil, that finding nothing here 
to satisfy the immortal mind, you might elevate your affections 
and hopes to a state of pure and imperishable joys. To act 
conscientiously, or as you are convinced is right, is a rule of 
universal application, and is in its nature calculated to produce 
happiness. A rational and moral agent cannot exist independ- 
ent of a law which prescribes and enforces his duty. Right 
and wrong are wholly relative. They refer to a law which we 
consider as a standard of rectitude. This makes the eternal 
difference between right and wrong, good and evil. 

The idea of a law, implies that of a law-giver, possessed of a 
right flowing from his own excellence, and underived supremacy 
to prescribe laws to all inferior dependent beings ; and who has 



BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 343 

power to enforce those laws by adequate sanctions. Man is the 
only animal on this globe who has the power of governing him- 
self by lawj and when he does this, he is a moral agent ; — that 
is, he acts from respect to a law whose obligatory power he recog- 
nizes. The morality of his actions consists in their relation to 
this law ; and this relation is the only foundation of moral good 
and evil. The tendency of all the laws which God has estab- 
lished is to universal and perfect happiness. This would cer- 
tainly be the result, were the requisitions of these laws fully 
complied with. The misery of man arises from his abuse of his 
moral hberty ; from his voluntary disconformity to the will of 
his Creator. This is the true origin of all the evil and misery 
that ever did, or ever will exist. The truth of this is apparent 
from the single consideration, that in a being wholly conformed 
to God, there can no more exist sin or misery than in God him- 
self. You are so constituted that you cannot remain indifferent 
to human actions. When you perceive these to be conformed 
to the rule of right, a sense of approbation rises up in the mind ; 
when disconformed, of disapprobation. In both cases, you ex- 
ercise moral sense. Be not deceived therefore by imagining that 
conscience or moral sense is the creature of education, a mere 
adventitious acquisition. God has not rested the virtue and 
happiness of his rational creatures, on so uncertain a founda- 
tion. Conscience is as much an original power of our nature 
as the understanding ; though it does not, hke the understand- 
ing, act alone in any instance. The operations of intellect must 
always precede ; for unless you know that there are such things 
as law and obligation, you can have no perception of right and 
wrong, of merit or demerit, and of course no exercise of moral 
sense. All our powers are evolved in a certain order ; exercised 
in their proper spheres, and in their peculiar relations and de- 
pendencies. The operations of moral sense, though in order 
subsequent to those of intellect, are wholly different from them. 
If the operations of intellect prove it to be an original power of 
the mind, the operations of moral sense equally prove it to be 
an original power of the mind. You will perceive therefore that 
virtue is not left unsupported ! that it is not left doubtful as to 
its motive, its nature or its end. You carry in yourselves the 



344 BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 

incitement, the rule and the reward. By admitting that the 
moral sense springs up from the original frame of your nature, 
you cannot avoid the obligation of doing right ; nor the censure 
and misery of doing wrong. If you would then possess an ap- 
proving conscience, take care to inform yourselves what is right ; 
to know the nature and extent of your obligations and duties. 
If you strictly adhere to these you will be virtuous ; and in pro- 
portion as you are virtuous, God has ordained that you shall be 
happy. You are not bound down by an invincible law of na- 
ture to be virtuous, because God has given you power to become 
vicious and miserable. In short your power to do wrong, is the 
same as your power to do right. In both cases the good or ill 
use of this power is left to your own choice. Remember then, 
that your own virtue, respectability, happiness and fame depend 
on yourselves. Never leave to accident or an imaginary fatality, 
what God has put in your power. Honor and virtue drop not 
from the clouds ; the winds will not bring you bread ; nor will 
the earth reach out a sceptre to you hand. God offers you his 
bounty, but leaves the improvement of it to yourselves. 

You have every motive therefore, to excite you to the most 
vigorous exertion of all your powers, to know and discharge your 
duties. These relate to God, to yourselves, and to your fellow 
men. All your relations involve duties ; and the importance of 
the latter, is in proportion to the intimacy of the former. Of 
course your duties to your Creator demand your first and highest 
regard. From him you have derived your being ; on him you 
are wholly dependent ; and to him you are amenable. The full 
homage of the heart, while it is justly due to him, lays the only 
foundation of tru€ virtue, and constitutes the only guarantee of 
your other duties. If you know, and love, and fear God, you 
will pay all suitable respect to yourselves and to your fellow 
men ; and you will in all things act conscientiously. This alone 
will give you stability in principle, energy in action, and dignity 
in character. Consider not, as is frequently done, the service 
of God as a wearisome burden. It is the highest glory and 
privilege of all intelligent beings. The laws of God are all just ; 
his requirements all reasonable, suitable to your state and ca- 
pacity, and directly conducive to your happiness. He acts 



BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 345 

from no necessity towards you. He needs neither your love 
nor your service ; for these can add nothing to an infinite being. 
All he desires is your happiness ; and this he pursues by all 
means consistent with your natures as free accountable creatures. 
The true happiness of an intelligent being springs from virtue, 
and virtue from freedom. Hence it is evident that omnipotence 
itself cannot make you happy by arbitrary irresistible force ; for 
this would destroy your moral agency, and convert you into 
brutes or machines. Your happiness, and that of all rational 
accountable beings, is the happiness of free will. Choose there- 
fore the service of God ; conform your actions to his laws ; yield 
up your affections wholly to him : for every thing appertaining 
to this world will ultimately leave you wretched. When a due 
reverence for the Supreme Being is established in the heart, the 
empire of virtue will be secured ; because, you will then consid- 
er all the relative duties of life, as duties to God. In a life of 
virtue the greatest victory to be obtained, is over yourselves. 
The heart of man, the seat of all his appetites and passions, is 
the source of all his vices and crimes, and of most of his errors. 
Reason and conscience were designed for his governors ; but in 
his present fallen state the authority of these is opposed, and 
not unfrequently wholly renounced. The soul loses its freedom, 
with its peace, and sinks into the dreadful empire of death. If 
you would preserve yourselves from this deplorable state, stifle 
the first suggestion of evil ; resist the first approach of tempta- 
tion ; keep your hearts with all diligence. Thus acting, you 
will be masters of yourselves. You will be able to cultivate with 
success every personal virtue ; and to acquire every useful and 
amiable accomplishment. Though the rule of right applies as 
directly to the duties owing to ourselves and to our fellow men, 
as to those owing to God, yet it somehow happens that most 
men are disposed to disregard their own personal, more than 
their relative obligations, especially those which involve the du- 
ties of self-denial. This is a great and dangerous error ; for no 
man can injure himself by vice or neglect without directly or 
remotely injuring others. You are as much responsible for the 
influence of your example on others, as for the ill effects of your 
actions on yourselves. Remember that personal virtue is the 
44 



346 BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 

foundation of all real worth ; of all true dignity of character ; of 
all genuine piety to God ; and of the most extensive usefulness 
to mankind. In proportion as a man becomes vicious, he ren- 
ders himself incapable of doing good ; destroys his ov^^n peace, 
and that of others ; perverts the noble end of his being ; soils 
every shining quality ; and degrades every intellectual and moral 
endowment* The danger of immoral example arises chiefly 
from wrong notions of true happiness, and from want of reflec- 
tion and due consideration » Vice, if properly seen, cannot like 
virtue spread on the principle of sympathetic association. A 
rational, sensitive being, cannot deliberately choose misery. If 
you examine the laws and principles which God has established 
in your nature ; if you compare these with the injunctions of 
his revealed will, you will perceive a wonderful coincidence ; 
and all your inquiries, if impartially conducted, will result in the 
firm conviction, that every motive is in favor of virtue and against 
vice ; that the last is only another name for pain, disgrace and 
misery ; the former for pleasure, honor and happiness. Never 
imagine that you can evade or violate with impunity, the laws 
of your nature. God has in all things connected your duty with 
your happiness. The relations which you sustain towards others, 
involve numerous and important obhgations. These result from 
the common principles and reciprocal wants of your nature, and 
from the laws of political society. Here opens the principal 
field for the display of those virtues, talents and qualifications 
which benefit mankind ; which conciliate their esteem, secure 
their friendship, and excite their admiration. Be cautious there- 
fore that you honorably discharge the obligations resulting from 
the social state. Much of the happiness of your lives will de- 
pend on the good will of those around you. This will be most 
effectually secured by a conscientious discharge of your duties ; 
in rendering exact justice to all men ; in paying all due respect 
to your superiors ; in kindness and condescension to your infe- 
riors ; in civiHty and politeness to your equals ; in liberality to 
the poor and distressed ; in supporting all institutions for the 
relief of human misery and for the increase of human happiness. 
Thus by acting in all the relartions of life according to the rule 
of right, you will satisfy your own consciences ; you will promote 



BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 347 

your own respectability and usefulness ; you will secure the 
esteem of men, and the friendship of God. 

As it is your lot to come forward into life at a most interest- 
ing period, let your conduct be marked with the most disinter- 
ested love of your country. Avoid the contagion of party spirit. 
Exercise a noble and independent liberality towards those who 
differ from you in sentiment. Cultivate peace with all men, 
and support the laws and constitution of your country. I trust 
and believe that you go from this college with a deep sense of 
the value of civil and religious freedom. To behold you exert- 
ing your talents in support of these, w^ill afford the highest 
pleasure to those who have conducted your education. 

The prompt obedience which you have rendered to the au- 
thority of this college ; the diligence with which you have pur- 
sued your studies ; the civility and decency which have char- 
acterised your deportment ; have greatly contributed to the good 
order and regular discipline of this college ; and have set an 
example, which I hope will long be remembered and followed. 
Though many individuals among your predecessors have held a 
high rank in literary distinction ; yet when I consider the num- 
ber and talents of the present class. I must pronounce you the 
lights of this Institution. Permit me to express on this occasion 
the high satisfaction which I experience in crowning you with 
the laurels of this college. May they grow and flourish for ever ! 
Departing from this institution, you carry with you my most 
ardent desires for your happiness. I now give you my final 
adieu, and recommend you to the blessing of God. 




AN 

ORATION 

DELIVERED BEFORE THE 

PROVIDENCE ASSOCIATION 

OF 



■fP^ 



MECHANICS AND MANUFACTURERS, 



AT THEIR 



ANNUAL ELECTION, 



APRIL 13, 1795. 



«* 



At the annual meeting of the Providence Association of 
Mechanics and Manufacturers, April, 13, 1795. 

Voted unanimously, That Messrs. William Rich- 
mond, Samuel Thurber, and Bennett Wheeler, be and 
they are hereby appointed a committee to wait on the 
Rev. President Maxcy, and present him the thanks of 
this Association, for the very entertaining and suitable 
oration delivered before them this day, and request of 
him a copy for the press. 

A true copy from the journals : 
Attest, G, ALLEN, Sec'ry. 



To the respectable Association, at whose request 
the following oration is published, it is inscribed, 

By their very 

humble servant, 

J. MAXCY. 
Providence, April 15, 1795. 



lAi.^ _i^ 






AN ORATION. 



The progress of man from barbarous to civilized life, is^ dis- 
tinguished by no circumstances more important than the inven- 
tion and improvement of useful arts. These, however, in the 
present improved state of society, have become so common, and 
their advantages so familiar, that, like the uninterrupted succes- 
sion of divine favors, they are commonly passed by unnoticed. 
The recitals of battles, victories and triumphs, which engross so 
great a part of history, dazzle the imagination, excite the pas- 
sions, and by perverting the judgment, force a tribute of ap- 
plause to those heroes whose actions dispassionate reason de- 
tests. Let us for a moment suppress the emotions excited by 
efforts of valor ; let us look at the great family of men, and ask 
them who are their benefactors. Are they heroes ? Are these 
the authors of all their civilization and all their useful conve- 
niences in life ? No — they have desolated our fields, they have 
butchered our ancestors, they have buried our plains in blood. 
They multiplied the miseries of their cotemporaries ; they left 
to their posterity examples of brutal ferocity and insatiable am- 
bition. But the inventors and improvers of arts meliorated 
the condition of society ; they converted the materials and sub- 
jected the elements of nature to its uses ; they established it on 
a permanent foundation, and left behind them laborious re- 
searches, whose progressive improvements and beneficent effects 



352 AN ORATION. 

will rejoice the hearts of all the descending millions of Adam. 
Shall we be unmindful of these our benefactors ? No — the ap- 
pearances of this day forbid it. They evince a sense of the im- 
portance of patronizing and promoting those arts which are the 
basis of civil society. 

Art, as it stands opposed to nature, signifies a particular sys- 
tem of rules or directions devised by human ingenuity for the 
attainment of some particular purpose. Art and science stand 
in the same relation to each other, as practice and speculation. 
Arts may be divided into three kinds ; liberal, fine, and me- 
chanic. The first respects principally the understanding ; the 
second, the imagination ; the third, the hand and body. Hence 
all arts are connected. As the faculty of understanding is ne- 
cessary to proficiency in all ; so they all derive assistance from 
each other. Of all arts, as they respect the convenience of in- 
dividuals, the w^ealth and respectability of nations, those termed 
mechanic are by far the most important. Where is a nation 
that ever rose to any considerable degree of eminence without 
them ? In a country where the rights of citizens are ascertained 
and secure by an equal administration of justice, the mechanic 
arts will flourish : because the laborer is sure of an adequate 
compensation. Injustice and tyranny cannot blast the fruit of 
his toil. The mechanic stand on a more permanent foundation 
than the fine arts. The essence of these is expression, their 
end is pleasure. Their progress depends on delicacy of taste, 
which is rare, and on the protection of the opulent, which is 
still more rare. Interest is a most pow^erful excitement to indus- 
try. Industry in mechanic employment will secure all the neces- 
saries and conveniencies of life ; but industry in the fine arts is 
not always sure even of a subsistence. Perfection in the fine 
arts is the certain forerunner of their decline. They are near- 
est their ruin when they appear to be at the greatest distance. 
But as the causes which gave birth to the mechanic arts must 
continue the same, these arts will continue as long as society 
exists, the chief sources of national wealth and importance. 

Arts and manufactures are of great consequence, as they re- 
spect the convenience, accommodation, and improvement of 
life. Let us for a moment revert to a state of uncivihzation : — 






AN ORATION. 353 

Here we find man a roving inhabitant of the wilderness, distin- 
guished from the beasts by nothing but the form of his body, 
and the celerity of inventing means of defence. In this con- 
dition, as he is destitute of those arts which furnish the neces- 
saries and conveniences of civilized life ; as his means of pro- 
curing subsistence are scanty, and the event of his exertions 
precarious ; he is under a total incapacity of improving the pow- 
ers of his mind, and of exalting his nature to the sublime enjoy- 
ments of moral and religious knowledge. He knows neither 
the cause nor design of his existence. He perhaps feels grati- 
tude to the sun for lighting him to the chace, and the moon for 
guiding his returning steps to his hut. But he knows not, he 
worships not the beneficent Creator, who established the earth 
on which he treads, and spread out the sky at which he gazes. 
The splendid wonders of creation hung all round him can nei- 
ther arrest his attention, nor direct his soul to the great first 
cause. How abject the condition of man unacquainted with 
those arts which accommodate and embellish life ! If we go 
back to barbarism we exchange the elegant mansion reared by 
art, for the unsightly hut thrown together by necessity ; we ex- 
change the furniture affording so much convenience and ease 
for want; we exchange the neat and brilliant apparel, con- 
tributing so much to the pleasure and improvement of society, 
for the garb of the bear and wolf. Our minds fall from mild- 
ness to ferocity, from improvement to uncivilization. We lose 
all our splendor, like the star when it darts from the summit of 
heaven, and breaks on the rock of the wilderness. A compari- 
son of the advantages and conveniencies accruing to us from arts 
and manufactures, with the state of things in those periods in 
which they were unknown, is the only circumstance which can ef- 
fectually convince us of their value. If we place ourselves at the 
first dawn of improvement, a splendid scene opens upon us. The 
genius of man, impelled by a restless thirst of happiness, dis- 
plays its powers and portrays its excellence in the invention and 
improvement of arts. These mark the first step of man from 
the savage state. These, by confining his attention, render him 
humane, and by furnishing the means of acquiring property, 
45 






354 AN ORATION. 

excite his ambition to multiply those conveniencies and facilities 
for which the desire of ease creates an unceasing demand. 

The great importance of mechanic arts will appear from their 
intimate connexion with agriculture. The latter began in the 
delightful garden of Eden. The manner in which it was per- 
formed, and by what kind of utensils, are unknown. After the 
primitive lapse, the stubbornness and infertility of the soil, orig- 
inated instruments and machines of husbandry. Without these, 
the productions of the earth could not be obtained. The curse 
which subjected man to laboricus employment is in its conse- 
quences pregnant with the highest benevolence. It was the oc- 
casion of all those arts which render men industrious, and 
gradually exalt them to the primitive glory of creation. All the 
importaut advantages resulting from agriculture are to be refer- 
red to mechanic art : For how can the earth be cultivated and 
its productions reared without proper instruments ? Arts and 
^agi'iculture are reciprocally advantageous. The productions 
>f the latter furnish means for the exertions of the former ; and 
the exertions of the former perfect and facilitate the latter. 
If w^e destroy mechanic arts, we destroy agriculture : and 
yet if the mountains and seas cover all their treasures ; if for- 
eign commerce be entirely neglected, if all the embellishment 
and splendor of life cease ; yet agriculture carried on by the 
assistance of mechanic arts, will furnish an ample subsistence 
for the inhabitants, and a sufficient security against foreign 
invasion. 

Commerce in the present advanced state of society, is of the 
highest importance. Let us for a moment contemplate the con- 
nexion subsisting between this, mechanic arts and manufac- 
tures. As soon as men can procure subsistence they seek to 
multiply conveniencies and accommodations. These if they 
cannot procure in their own they will seek in foreign coun- 
tries. Hence the origin of commerce. But commerce cannot 
subsist unless something can be spared for what is wanted. 
But wher^ are we to look for the surplus that can be spared ? 
To the labors of the mechanic and manufacturer. The pro- 
ductions of the soil, may indeed become great articles of expor- 
tation, but how are these productions reared? By the labors of 



AN ORATION. 355 

the farmer. But these labors cannot be performed without the 
assistance of the mechanic and manufacturer. Without this, 
neither the means of navigation, nor the materials of commerce, 
can be furnished. The procurement of unwrought materials re- 
quires great assistance from mechanic labor. The exportation 
of these may be great, but not so profitable as the exportation 
of those on which the artificer has bestowed his labor. Labor 
is the only original source of wealth. Consequently, it must 
add a real and permanent value to those materials on which it is 
bestowed. A commercial demand for these must rouse the in- 
dustry, and increase the wealth of a nation. The connexion 
between arts, manufactures and commerce, with regard to the 
highests interests of society, is indissoluble. The interest of no 
class of citizens is more essentially involved in the promotion of 
arts and manufactures, than the interest of merchants. They 
have the greatest power of promoting them ; for as they gene- 
rally possess large capitals, they can make the most advantage- 
ous arrangement. Encomiums too great cannot be lavished on 
commerce. It enlarges the acquaintance of men ; unites dis- 
tant nations in affection ; promotes a spirit of peace, and gradu- 
ally cements the whole world into one family. It increases 
beyond every thing else the wealth and power of nations. But 
we ought to recollect that commerce cannot exist without arts 
and manufactures ; though these can exist, and in great perfec- 
tion, without commerce. 

The importance and usefulness of arts and manufactures 
will appear, if we consider them with respect to war. Men 
have naturally an aversion to labor. Their propensity to ease 
renders them feeble, and disarms them of resolution. Labor 
furnishes the body with strength and the mind with valor. The 
great advantage, therefore, of arts and manufactures as to war, 
is, that they supply a nation with a permanent fund of strength 
and activity to be employed in its defence. Laboring people 
are the security of a free nation. Those who live in idleness 
and effeminacy are not easily brought to laborious exertion. 
They must of consequence fall a prey to the first invader. 

If arts and manufactures are of such importance to society, 
they surely deserve the highest encouragement. This, however, 



356 ^^^^^■SmimoN. 

ought not to be given by pecuniary bounties, as has been fre- 
quently done. This, though it may increase the wealth of cer- 
tain individuals, yet it will not increase the wealth of a nation. 
A nation will consume the production of any art or manufac- 
ture so long as it is necessary to encourage them by bounties. 
If the productions of that labor, which is expended in any par- 
ticular art or manufacture, do not return to the laborer a suffi- 
cient compensation, then surely it would be great impolicy in a 
nation to make up the deficiency by bounties ; because, in this 
case she would tax herself, and diminish her capital. That art 
or manufacture which cannot support itself had better be neg- 
lected. 

To promote agriculture is to promote manufactures and the 
mechanic arts. For the greater the perfection to which agri- 
culture is carried, the more fertile will be the soil, and the more 
plentiful its productions ;-— of consequence, a smaller number of 
laborers can furnish subsistence for the community. Ample 
means of subsistence will enable a greater portion of the inhabi- 
tants to devote themselves to mechanic employment. When 
this is the case, all the divisions necessary to expedite and per- 
fect labor can be made. 

Arts and manufactures may also be greatly promoted by pro- 
hibiting or restraining the importation of such articles and ma- 
terials as can be produced and furnished in our own country. 
Such a procedure, by checking the supply necessary for the do- 
mestic demand, would be a powerful excitement to domestic in- 
dustry. The pri€e of manufactures would be enhanced. — This 
circumstance would arouse a spirit of emulation ; which, by fur- 
nishing a plentiful supply to the public demand, would reduce 
the price to a proper medium. The productive powers of la- 
bor would be increased, and the national wealth augmented. 

From the great increase of labor caused by prohibitions and 
restrictions on importation, would arise a great surplus for ex- 
portation. Encouragement given to this exportation would not 
only support but augment those productive powers of labor, to 
which the national demand first gave birth. But how shall this 
encouragement be given ? If by bounties, the consequence will 
be, that a part of the national wealth will be turned into a chan- 



AN ORATION. 357 

nel different from that in which it was before. But will the na- 
tion gain by this ? Probably she will not ; because it is extreme- 
ly uncertain whether the increase of labor caused by the boun- 
ties bestowed, will reimburse the national treasury and return a 
sufficient compensation to the laborer. Possibly, in some in- 
stances, a temporary diversion of a part of the general labor of 
the community, to some particular manufacture, may be success- 
fully effected ; but if this diversion of labor cannot be continu- 
ed without bounties, it had better be neglected ; because the ex- 
ertions of the laborer, in this case, do not afford him adequate 
compensation. Commercial treaties, in which the merchants 
and manufacturers of our own country have particular privileges 
granted for the disposal of our own productions in foreign coun- 
tries, are, without doubt for the encouragement of exportation, 
methods which the soundest policy w^ould dictate and approve. 
Because the particular privileges granted our own merchants, 
would, by giving them a kind of monopoly, give their goods a 
more rapid sale and an enhanced price. 

The preceding observations evince the vast importance of 
arts and manufactures, with respect to civilization, opulence 
and power. Had any person but a few centuries ago prophe- 
sied the amazing accession of wealth and splendor, since gained 
to the states of Europe by the support which manufactures 
have given to commerce, he would have been deemed a vision- 
ary enthusiast. To what a degree of power and wealth since 
the reign of Elizabeth, has England arisen ? Though her com- 
merce before was by no means inconsiderable, yet at this period 
it began particularly to flourish. — The Dutch, by becoming a 
commercial, had become an opulent and powerful people. Their 
example excited a spirit of emulation among the Enghsh and in- 
duced them to follow their steps. The success of these two 
powers roused a spirit of industry ; originated and improved 
arts and manufactures. These in their turn augmented com- 
merce, and consequently that wealth and naval power, which 
have effected the establishment of colonies in almost all parts of 
the known world. The Phoenicians rose to great eminence by 
commerce. Arts and manufactures furnishing the materials of 
their trade, made them masters of the sea. When we behold 



358 AN ORATION. 

them covering the ocean with their fleets, pursuing hazardous 
voyages to unknown countries, opening new sources of weahh 
and power, forming friendly intercourse with remote nations, 
estabhshing new colonies in Africa and Europe; we are apt 
inconsiderately to lavish all our praises on commerce ; not re- 
flecting that commerce cannot exist without mechanic arts and 
manufactures. Carthage founded by the Phoenicians and inher- 
iting their spirit, rose to such amazing opulence and power, that 
she could dispute with Rome, the empire of the world. At the 
commencement of the third punic war, Carthage had seven hun- 
dred thousand inhabitants, and in Africa three hundred cities 
in her dependence. The original source of her immense 
wealth, of her numerous population and almost invincible pow- 
er, was labor. After the conquest of Tyre by Alexander the 
great, the seat of commerce and consequently of arts and 
manufactures was removed to Alexandria in Egypt. Here com- 
merce, patronized by the Ptolemies, was carried to a degree of 
improvement unknown in Tyre and Carthage. Ptolemy Phila- 
delphus extended the bounds of his kingdom over such vast 
countries and beyond the sea, that he possessed in his dominions 
four thousand cities. His fleets shaded the ocean. Whence 
all this astonishing greatness, wealth, and power ? From arts 
and manufactures. Commerce, it is true, is the immediate but 
not the original and most important source. Though we are 
dazzled with the beauty and magnificence of the superstructure, 
let us not forget that the foundation, though usually kept out of 
sight, is the most important part. Should we at once deprive 
ourselves of- all the advantages derived from the useful arts, 
life would scarcely be tolerable. The change would inevitably 
be fatal to a great part of the community. 

Mechanic employment is the first and most important advance 
towards civilization. What particularly distinguished the abo- 
rigines of South America from the savage state was the build- 
ing of regular cities. At the era of the Spanish invasion the 
Mexicans and Peruvians had made great advances in civil so- 
ciety and government ; because they had made great improve- 
ments in useful arts. The amazing populousness of Mexico 
and Peru, proves invincibly, that arts were carried to great 



AN ORATION. 359 

perfection. Montezuma could bring as many fighting men into 
the field as there are inhabitants in the United States. How 
different was the state of North-America ? Not a trait of regu- 
lar art was to be seen. The country though fertile, was thinly 
peopled. This vast continent exhibited a melancholy spectacle 
of the unhappy, degraded state of man, while destitute of use- 
ful arts. Similar doubtless must have been the situation of all 
the nations of the earth. How is that surprising change effect- 
ed, which exalts man above the savage state, and raises his na- 
ture to the highest degree of refinement and glory ? A few 
unite in society for mutual assistance. Change of condition 
produces change of inclination. Invention roused by necessity, 
operates in researches after more expeditious means of procur- 
ing the subsistence and multiplying the conveniences of life. 
The conical hut is now too contracted. The square one suc- 
ceeds. Here is the origin of architecture, that art which con- 
tributes so much to the ease of life ; that art, whose majestic 
monuments have astonished the world. Architecture began to 
improve soon after agriculture. The vicissitudes of seasons, the 
inclemency of weather, and the violence of tempests, roused 
the genius of man into activity, for the procurement of shelter. 
Architecture like all other arts rose by degrees to perfection. 
The first city mentioned in history is that built by Cain after he 
was cursed for the murder of his brother. This art first appear- 
ed in Asia, where the first Adam was formed, and where the sec- 
ond, the son of a carpenter, was born. It was carried to a sur- 
prising degree of vastness by the Egyptians, Assyrians and Per- 
sians. To the Greeks, from whom we are to expect every thing 
excellent in gepius and taste, we must look for the perfection of 
this art. They improved it to the highest degree of elegance, 
ornament and beautiful proportion. From them the Romans re- 
ceived their architecture, and gave it such a high degree of mag- 
nificence, that their models remain unequalled by anything of 
the kind, to be found in modern times. 

In whatever respect we view man in the progress of society, 
we shall find his condition meliorated in proportion to the im- 
provement of useful arts. 

Time forbids me to enlarge on their origin, progress and 




1 



360 



AN ORATION. 



improvement. I therefore, beg the liberty to add a few words 
to the respectable Association, which I have now the honor to 
address. You gentlemen, have the satisfaction to reflect, that 
the employments you pursue, are the chief sources of conve- 
nience, opulence and power. Your exertions not only promote 
your own but the interests of society. Because mechanic labor 
always increases the value of the materials on which it is bestow- 
ed. Your arts originated in the necessities of men. In pro- 
portion as they relieve these, they contribute to the perfection 
of the social state. They tend immediately to exalt man from 
the rude simplicitj^ of barbarous hfe, to the refined elegance of 
polished society. Unanimity in your exertions will expedite the 
career of improvement in arts and manufactures. It will fa- 
cilitate the acquirement of property, display new scenes, and 
afford more powerful excitements to industry and genius. 
Though your occupations are less splendid, they are not less 
useful than those of the philosopher. Without your assistance, 
he can neither explain the phenomena of nature, nor bring down 
the frame of heaven and place it before our eyes. The princi- 
ples on which your Association is founded, appear calculated to 
produce very salutary effects. The care you have taken to 
make provision for the relief of the unfortunate and distressed ; 
to accommodate difficulties by amicable adjustments ; to prevent 
the expense of time and property in legal contention ; to exter- 
minate vice and suppress hcentiousness ; these things, reflect 
honor on the cause of benevolence and justice. Your employ- 
ments pursued with invincible perseverance, will infallibly secure 
prosperity. The constitution and condition of man, indicate 
his original destination to labor and activity, God has not of- 
fered wealth and happiness to his acceptance, but to his acquire- 
ment. In this world he must not expect something for nothing. 
To be industrious in some useful employment, is to act in 
conformity to the great harmonious scheme struck out to us by 
the benevolent author of our existence. How honorable then, 
is that occupation, which brings our exertions into a coincidence 
with his designs ! The subjection of man to toil, will in its ulti- 
mate effects, develop all the noble powers of his soul, and exalt 
society to the summit of human glory. It will rouse the efforts 



\ 

AN ORATION. 361 

of genius, and turn them into a train of exfertions, whose effects 
will cast a new form over the face of the whole world. The 
numerous embarrassments which subject man to difficulty, the 
great obstacles which impede his career in the vast race of ex- 
istence, are to be removed by the hand of industry and art. 
Improvement in the useful arts, has paved the way to those 
improvements in science, which have conferred so much happi- 
ness on society, and shed so much lustre on the human mind. 
The advantages resulting from mechanic employment, have en- 
abled men to devote to the cultivation of literature that portion 
of time which their former necessities compelled them to spend 
in the procurement of subsistence. Let none therefore, howev- 
er extensive their acquirements, however exalted or splendid 
their situation, despise the arts of industry and peace. Consider, 
gentlemen, that your several occupations regularly pursued, 
exhibit imitations of that admirable order and harmonious ad- 
justment so conspicuous in the great system of creation. What 
wonderful art appears in the earth with all its appendages, under 
our feet, and in the heavens with all their vast machinery of 
worlds over our heads ! Deity has given you an example. Fol- 
low it and be happy. Retrospection on lives, devoted to useful, 
industrious occupation, will afford the most pleasing and perma- 
nent satisfaction. May you persevere in your various employ- 
ments, living peaceably and honestly with all men. A con- 
sciousness of having done your duty in the business you have 
pursued will, by cheering you in the hour of adversity, brighten 
up the prospects of futurity, and bear forward your hopes to 
that delightful kingdom where the blessed shall forever cease 
from labor. 



46 




AN 



ORATION 

DELIVERED 

IN THE BAPTIST MEETING HOUSE 

IN PROVIDENCE, 
JULY 4ih, 1795, 

AT THE CELEBRATION OF THE NINETEENTH ANNIVERSARY OF 

AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE. 



TO THE 



WORTHY INHABITANTS 

OF THE TOWN OF 

PROVIDENCE, 
THE FOLLOWING ORATION 

IS MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, 
BY THEIR SINCERE FRIEND, 

AND VERY HUMBLE SERVANT, 

J. MAXCY. 



«t 



I 



Ai 



.■ft 



AN ORATION. 



The citizens of America celebrate that day which gave birth 
to their hberties. The recollection of this event, replete with 
consequences so beneficial to mankind, swells every heart with 
joy, and fills every tongue with praise. We celebrate not the 
sanguinary exploits of a tyrant to subjugate and enslave millions 
of his fellow-creatures ; we celebrate neither the birth nor the 
coronation of that phantom styled a king ; — ^but the resurrection 
of liberty, the emancipation of mankind, the regeneration of the 
world. These are the sources of our joy, these the causes of 
our triumph. We pay no homage at the tomb of kings, to 
sublime our feelings — we trace no line of illustrious ancestors, 
to support our dignity — we recur to no usages sanctioned by the 
authority of the great to protect our rejoicings ; — no, we love 
liberty, we glory in the rights of men, we glory in independence. 
On whatever part of God's creation a human form pines under 
chains, there Americans drop their tears. 

A dark cloud once shaded this beautiful quarter of the globe 
Consternation for a while agitated the hearts of the inhabitants. 
War desolated our fields, and buried our vales in blood. But 
the day-spring from on high soon opened upon us its glittering 
portals. The Angel of Liberty descending, dropped on Wash- 
ington's brow the wreath of victory, and stamped on American 
freedom the seal of omnipotence. The darkness is past, and the 



368 AN ORATION. 

true light now shines, to enliven and rejoice mankind. We tread 
a new earth, in which dwelleth righteousness ; and view a new 
heaven, flaming with inextinguishable stars. Our feet will no 
more descend into the vale of oppressions. Our shoulders will 
no more bend under the weight of a foreign domination, as cruel 
as it was unjust. Well may we rejoice at the return of this glo- 
rious anniversary ; a day dear to every American — a day to be 
had in everlasting remembrance — a day whose light circulates joy 
through the hearts of all repubhcans, and terror through the 
hearts of all tyrants. 

Liberty is the birthright of man. It is coeval with his exist- 
ence. It is a privilege wrought into his constitution, accommo- 
dated to his situation, and proclaimed his own by the concurrent 
voice of nature and reason. Who shall rob man of this privi- 
lege ? It was given him by the Almighty. Man, though made 
free, was made to be governed by laws. These however cannot 
be obligatory, unless founded in reason and justice. Liberty 
consists not in exemption from the control of laws, but in act- 
ing according to laws ; laws just and equal, estabhshed by the 
unanimous consent of the community. 

While uncivilized man roams through the wilderness, he en- 
joys the liberty of nature. . His bed is the earth, his canopy the 
sky. Uncontrolled by the force of human institutions, and un- 
acquainted with those delicate obligations which render men 
slaves in the social state, he acknowledges no power but that of 
his own arm, and submits to no decision but that of his own 
will. But no sooner does the necessity of mutual relief and pro- 
tection involve him in the relations of civil society, than his 
liberty assumes a new form ; better accommodated to his ca- 
pacity, because more limited ; more useful, because subjected to 
the laws of order. This new situation of man originates a mul- 
tiplicity of rights, obligations and duties. To secure him in the 
peaceful and inviolate enjoyment of the first, to stimulate and 
compel him to the punctual and invariable performance of the 
last, these are the highest objects of civil government. That 
system of administration under whose operation these objects 
are most expeditiously obtained, and most permanently secured 
must be deemed the most perfect. The more effectually the 



AN ORATION. 369 

persons of men are guarded from injury, and their property 
from unjust spoliation, the less will they be liable to contention, 
more happy at home, more happy abroad ; more humane, just 
and benevolent ; more industrious, wealthy, virtuous and en- 
lightened. What then must be our opinion of that system of 
politics adopted and pursued by the founders of all despotic 
monarchies ? What incomparable lessons of wisdom would they 
inculcate upon us ? They teach us, by their doctrine and prac- 
tice, that millions are created for the use and pleasure of an in- 
dividual, who is amenable to no human tribunal ; who can 
infringe the rights, dispose of the property and destroy the lives 
of his subjects. Sentiments these, which sap the foundation of 
that great political maxim, that the safety and happiness of the 
community are the highest ends of civil government. Had 
mankind known, that there was but one being in the universe 
of sufficient wisdom and goodness to be invested with unlimited 
power, they never would have submitted to dominion founded 
in usurpation, supported by cruelty, and administered by injus- 
tice. The first object of men in the career of ambition, is to 
render themselves independent ; the second to subject and op- 
press others. Monarchical governments, however limited, have 
never secured to the people the enjoyment of their rights. A 
crown, it has been said, is too splendid a price to be conferred 
on merit. If so, surely it is too splendid a price to glitter on 
the head of arrogance, or hereditary folly. The ambition of 
kings has never known any limits. Dazzled by the splendor of 
crowns, and infatuated by the possession of supreme power ; 
flattered on every side by the servile compliance of courtiers, 
and deluded into a belief that the determinations of their own 
wills ought to be inviolable laws of conduct for their subjects, 
they have fancied themselves the vicegerents of God, born and 
designed for no end but the exercise of unbounded authority. 
Rapacious of wealth, and ambitious of power, they have never 
failed to encroach on those intermediate authorities constituted 
by the people, and designed by them as an impregnable barrier 
against regal invasion. 

Aristocratical governments, though they may be more favor- 
able than monarchical to the peace and security of the people, 
47 



370 AN ORATION. 

yet they do not secure those important objects which ought ever 
to be kept in view in all systems of civil policy. When the su- 
preme power is vested in a number, the chance for wisdom, 
virtue, and impartial administration of justice, is greater than 
when the supreme power is vested in an individual. This may 
be expected to be the case, when the members succeed to their 
places by some possessions, qualifications or inheritance. But 
the advantages accruing to government from that wisdom and 
experience which are tol^e expected in a permanent council, 
will be counterbalanced by the evils of dissension unavoidable 
among men invested with equal pdwer ; men whose privileges 
will render them oppressive, and whose ambition, unawed by a 
superior, will hurry on their passions to the most desperate ex- 
tremes. Deplorable indeed must be the situation of a people, 
whose rights are perpetually exposed to the capricious insolence 
of combined aristocratical power. Prudence would dictate the 
sufferance of one, rather than a thousand tyrants ; but reason 
and common sense forbid the sufferance of any. 

If we would secure the interest and tranquihty of a commu- 
nity, we must have recourse to some form of government, where 
the supreme power is collected, lodged and preserved by the 
voluntary choice of the people. When this is the case, civil 
liberty, secure from the grasp of a despotic tyrant, and the am- 
bitious pretensions of a haughty nobihty, will exist in the great- 
est perfection, and diffuse its salutary influence through the 
whole circle of society. Man, in a state of improvement, sub- 
jected to the regulations of political administration, must relin- 
quish so much of his natural liberty as is inconsistent with the 
good of the community. He must not consult and gratify pri- 
vate inclination at the expense of the public. He must not in- 
dulge a haughty spirit of self-direction and independency, but 
cheerfully submit to the control of just and equal laws. In do- 
ing this, he secures and enjoys the only liberty desirable in any 
state but that of solitude. Did all the members of society in- 
dulge their own dispositions, aim at their own objects, and grat- 
ify their own passions, without any regard to the consistency of 
their conduct with the general interest, they would be involved 
in so many difficulties, from a mutual interference of private 



AN ORATION. 371 

pursuits, that they would enjoy but a small share of that liberty 
and happiness which are secured by submission to good gov- 
ernment. The condition of men, their connexions and depen- 
dencies in civil society, are such, that all laws ought to be 
deemed salutary and just, which restrain the will and curtail the 
liberty of each individual, whenever the indulgence of that will 
and the enjoyment of that liberty, would contravene the opera- 
tion of those means instituted for the security of public happi- 
ness. Union of men in society, of necessity diminishes their 
natural liberty. But each one ought to consider, that he gains 
vastly more by the diminution of other men's liberty, than he 
loses by the diminution of his own. — In every species of civil 
government, there exists a supreme power, from which there is 
no appeal. The rights of the people will be most effectually 
secured, where this power is deposited and restricted in such a 
manner, as to afford no prospect of success to ambitious, design- 
ing men. This end is obtained with greater ease and certainty 
in a republic than in any other government. The first principle 
of genuine republicanism is, that all men, as to rights, are equal. 
From this plain undeniable position it follows, that all power 
not originating in the consent of the people ; all power not ex* 
ercised according to their direction, and subjected to their 
control, is usurpation, injustice and tyranny. If an enlightened 
nation cannot enjoy happiness under a government formed and 
administered by her own consent, she never can under any. If 
under a monarchy men are liable to oppression, exaction, and 
military domination ; if they are hable at all times to be involved 
in unnecessary wars, to gratify the caprice of the reigning prince, 
or a favorite minister ; if they are constantly liable to insecurity 
of their persons and property, through the instabihty or deficien- 
cy of salutary regulations ; if under an aristocmcy men are lia- 
ble to suffer the pernicious effects of combined ambition, or the 
horrors of dissension, among the rulers clothed with equal au- 
thority ; if men are hable to these things, it is because they are 
deprived of their rights by privileged orders, and subjected to 
the control of laws enacted and enforced without their consent. 
All the inconveniences resulting from arbitrary power lodged in 
the hands of an individual, or of a number, are obviated by the 



372 AN ORATION. 

first principle of free government. If all men are born equal, 
surely all have an equal right to a voice in the enaction of laws ; 
all have an equal right to suffrage in the election of men into 
places of power and trust. Possessed of these rights, the people 
can always manifest their will, and estabUsh regulations accom- 
modated to their situation. Their exigencies can always be 
known, and always relieved. But in governments where the 
administration of public affairs rests in an individual, or a few ; 
where offices are disposed of by caprice, or sold to the highest 
bidder ; where the right to govern is claimed by hereditary suc- 
cession, and descends to folly as often as to wisdom ; where 
these things occur, what can be expected but ignorance in the 
rulers, with respect to the real condition of the community ? 
What can be expected but servility and fear in the people, 
haughtiness and audacity in the magistrates ? What can be ex- 
pected but the desolating pestilence of exorbitant avarice and 
unbounded ambition ? That spirit of wisdom and benevolence 
so conspicuous in the constitution of the United States, levels 
all the pompous distinctions of rank^ opens the way of honor 
and promotion to all who are worthy, and affords ample security 
to the persons and property of the whole community. The 
circumstances attending the settlement and growth of this coun- 
try, till its dismemberment from the government of Great Britain, 
tended directly to pave the way to liberty and independence. 
The facility with which landed property was acquired, and the 
certain enjoyment of the productions of their industry, inspired 
the inhabitants with disgust for a state of dependency, and love 
for a state of freedom. The manner in which they were train- 
ed up from youth to manhood, taught them their rights. No 
usurping tyrant here fixed the standard of despotism, and awed 
them into a state of vassalage. No haughty nobility engrossed 
the soil, and reduced the people to the necessity of starving, or 
submitting to the drudgery of slaves. Each man was his own 
master, walked on his own ground, reaped the fruit of his own 
toil. Could it be expected that such men would peaceably 
cringe under the lash of a tyrant ? Could it be expected that 
such men would suffer their rights to be infringed by privileged 
orders, or the produce of their industry to be decimated by ec- 



AN ORATION. 373 

clesiastical oppression ? "W as the parliament of Great Britain so 
ignorant of the state of this country, as to imagine that the peo- 
ple, whose daily experience taught them their liberties, would 
sit still till they were bound in chains ? By what authority could 
the British government impose laws on us without our consent, 
or tax us without allowing us the right of representation ! With 
what success their arbitrary designs were crowned, let the late 
revolution declare. Let this joyful anniversary of our indepen- 
dence announce it to remotest ages, and stand an eternal mon- 
ument of the escape of liberty from the harpy fangs of despo- 
tism. 

The political situation of our country, resulting from the 
admirable constitution and administration of our government, 
puts us into possession of many blessings, and opens upon us 
many prospects, not enjoyed by any other nation under heaven. 
No favored orders can here claim the exclusive right of legisla- 
tion. All stand on the same level, enjoy the same freedom, and 
submit to the same laws. Places of honor, profit and trust, are 
equally open to all our citizens. No particular set of men is 
here supported in idleness and extavagance, at the expense of 
the community. No unnecessary taxes are imposed on the 
people, nor is it probable there will be, because they affect the 
legislators as much as the citizens. Property cannot be more 
effectually secured than it is in the United States ; for no man 
here can be deprived of it but by the operation of laws estab- 
lished by the whole community. The lives and fortunes of alf 
the Americans are on board one vessel ; it is therefore the duty^ 
interest and happiness of all to take care of it. The present 
situation of our country is peculiarly favorable to the cultivation 
of genius. Great capacity and extensive acquirements are in- 
dispensably necessary to qualify men to manage with success the 
political concerns, and to discharge with reputation the impor- 
tant duties annexed to the governmental departments of these 
States. Important objects are exposed to the attainment of all ; 
— objects calculated to arrest the attention and fire the ambition 
of all who are disposed to render themselves meritorious of 
public esteem. That political equality and general information 
which prevail under our government, bring forth genius from 



374 AN ORATION. 

every class of citizens. This circumstance renders it probable, 
that happiness will here be enjoyed in a greater degree, and in 
longer duration, than it has been under any government since 
the institution of civil society. 

The freedom of the press, so essential to the preservation of 
liberty, is here enjoyed in its greatest latitude. The conduct of 
every citizen invested with authority, all occurrences foreign 
and domestic, are presented in one view to the whole nation. 
Such is the light diffused through the whole mass of the people, 
that none in places of trust can escape the most accurate inspec- 
tion. The freedom of the press converts united America into 
an enlightened congress of politicians. How can our liberties 
be subverted, while the people are universally acquainted with 
the conduct of their representatives ? These are elected into 
office for certain periods, at the expiration of which they must 
revert back to their former places as private citizens. Are they 
not under the greatest degree of responsibility ? Are they not 
under the greatest inducement to distinguish their conduct with 
rectitude and wisdom ? Will they be likely to adopt regulations 
injurious to the community, when they themselves must soon 
feel their operation ; The situation of this country indicates its 
original destination to independence. How could it be expect- 
ed that such an extensive continent, at such a vast distance from 
the old world, would not be inhabited at some period by men 
capable of governing and defending themselves ? Who in his 
senses could imagine, that a country like this, replete with all 
the necessaries of life : a country whose ports open to every 
quarter of the globe, and whose fleets will one day cover the 
ocean ; who could imagine that such a country, inhabited by 
men fond to excess of hberty, would pay submission to the petty 
island of Britain ? We might almost as reasonably expect, that 
the sun and all the planetary worlds would rush down from their 
shining spheres, to gravitate round a pebble. By the appoint- 
ment of heaven we stand by our own strength, disconnected 
from foreign influence and foreign power. This circumstance 
undoubtedly gave birth to that calm deliberation, which reflect- 
ed so much honor on the Americans, in forming and establishing 
the federal constitution. From our local situation, we enjoy in 



AN ORATION. 



3*75 



a superior degree the advantages of neutrality. Had we sub- 
mitted to the rapacious demands of Britain, how deplorable must 
have been our situation ? How disgracefully should we have 
been led off by a foreign master, and plu»ged in all the horrors 
of war ! How many Americans must have breathed out their 
lives on the plains of Europe ! How many of our hands must 
have been employed in the drudgery of kings, to undermine 
the fair temple of liberty ! The great Parent of the universe has 
peculiarly distinguished the Americans, in encouraging them to 
assert, and in enabling them to defend their rights. These, 
however, have been most atrociously violated by that supercili- 
ous overbearing conduct, which has usually marked the British 
ministry. They, regardless of the rights of neutrality, have 
committed spoliations on our property, at which uncivilized 
barbarians would blush ; spoliations attended with that rapacious 
meanness and contemptible insolence, which no pretences how- 
ever artful can conceal, no evasions however plausible can ex- 
cuse. 

Among the numerous advantages enjoyed by the inhabitants 
of these States, we may rank the exemption from ecclesiastical 
establishments. The incorporation of these with systems of 
civil policy, has never failed to promote bigotry, hypocrisy and 
oppression. The requirement of subscription to particular arti- 
cles of faith, as an indispensable qualification in candidates for 
offices of public trust, is a most flagitious intrusion on the equal 
rights of men ; an intrusion which screens ambition and avarice 
under the mantle of religion, converts religion into a mere en- 
gine of state, patronizes vice under the pompous ceremonies of 
worship, levels all moral distinctions, and damps that voluntary 
ardor of piety which alone is acceptable to the Supreme Being. 
What right has the arm of the magistrate to intrude itself into 
the field of religious opinion ? To what order of men has the Al- 
mighty delegated wisdom and authority to prescribe modes of 
faith ? None but voluntary worshippers are acceptable to God. 
Those who choose to worship him, will do it without the con- 
straints of civil law. All others are hypocrites. Who then can 
advocate the necessity of religious estabishments, without betray- 
ing a want of sincerity ? Pteligious liberty exists in these States, 



\it 



376 AN ORATION. 

but not without some restraints. These restraints have originated 
in an unjustifiable interference of civil authority. To the ever- 
lasting honor of Rhode Island be it said, that her legislature has 
never assumed the authority of regulating ecclesiastical con- 
cerns. Religion here stands as it ought to, on its own basis, 
disconnected with all political considerations. 

A slight view of the condition of mankind in other quarters 
of the globe, will at once convince us of the superior privileges 
and blessings enjoyed in America. Imagination can scarcely 
depict the wretched state of the people inhabiting the immense 
regions of Asia and Africa. There human nature, enveloped 
in darkness, is degraded to the condition of brutes, transferred 
like them from one owner to another, pressed under the load of 
arbitrary power. Their hearts never expand under the enliven- 
ing beams of liberty. In many parts of Europe the condition 
of the people is more tolerable. The spirit of oppression how- 
ever predominates, and rears up its hideous form to oppose the 
progress of liberty. France, in breaking her chains and seizing 
her freedom, has experienced all the horrors of war. Its deso- 
lating calamities have rolled over her fertile plains. Her armies 
animated by that ardor which first glowed in America, have tri- 
umphed over all opposition. Despotism has been shaken to its 
lowest foundations. Brave Frenchmen ; your cause is the cause 
of all nature; your victories, the liberties of the world ! 

Turning off our eyes from the bloody fields of Europe, we 
may rejoice for the happiness of the United States. In a full 
persuasion of the excellency of our government, let us shun 
those vices which tend to its subversion, and cultivate those 
virtues which will render it permanent, and transmit it in full 
vigor to all succeeding ages. Let not the haggard forms of in- 
temperance and luxury ever lift up their destroying visages in 
this happy country. Let economy, frugality, moderation and 
justice, at home and abroad, mark the conduct of all our citi- 
zens. Let it be our constant care to diffuse knowledge and 
goodness through all ranks of society. The people of this 
country will never be uneasy under its present form of govern- 
ment, provided they have sufficient information to judge of its 
excellency. No nation under heaven enjoys so much happi- 



AN ORATION. 377 

ness as the Americans. Convince them of this, and will they 
not shudder at the thought of subverting their political constitu- 
tion, or suffering it to degenerate into aristocracy or mon- 
archy ? Let a sense of our happy situation awaken in us the 
warmest sensations of gratitude to the Supreme Being. Let us 
consider him as the author of all our blessings, acknowledging 
him as our beneficent parent, protector and friend. The pre- 
dominant tendency of his providences towards us as a nation, 
evinces his benevolent designs. Every part of his conduct 
speaks in a language plain and intelligible. Let us open our 
ears, let us attend, let us be wise. 

While we celebrate the anniversary of our independence, let 
us not pass over in silence the defenders of our country. Where 
are those brave Americans whose lives were cloven down in the 
tempest of battle ? Are they not bending from the bright 
abodes ? A voice from the altar cries, " These are they who 
loved their country, these are they who died for liberty." We 
now reap the fruit of their agony and toil. Let their memories 
be eternally embalmed in our bosoms. Let the infants of all 
posterity prattle their fame, and drop tears of courage for their 
fate. 

The consequences of American independence will soon reach 
to the extremities of the world. The shining car of freedom 
will soon roll over the necks of kings, and bear off the oppressed 
to scenes of liberty and peace. The clamors of war will ceaso 
under the whole heaven. The tree of liberty will shoot its top 
up to the sun. Its boughs will hang over the ends of the world, 
and the wearied nations will lie down and rest under its shade. 
Here in America stands the asylum for the distressed and perse- 
cuted of all nations. This vast temple of freedom rises majesti- 
cally fair. Founded on a rock, it will remain unshaken by the 
force of tyrants, undiminished by the flight of time. Long 
streams of light emanate through its portals, and chase the 
darkness from distant nations. Its turrets will swell, into 
the heavens, rising above every tempest ; and the pillar of di- 
vine glory, descending from God, will rest for ever on its sum- 
mit. 

48 






m 



AN 



ORATION, 



DELIVERED IN THE 



FIRST CONGREGATIONAL MEETING HOUSE, 



IN 



PROVIDENCE, 



ON THE FOURTH OF JULY, 1799. 



AN ORATION. 



Called by your suffrages, Fellow-Citizens, I once more ad- 
dress you on the Anniversary of our National Independence. 
This event, though glorious in itself, and wonderful in its effects, 
is, by the peculiar situation of our pubhc affairs, exalted to a 
point of unprecedented importance. Never has our country 
been exposed to greater danger ; never has our government been 
assaulted with greater violence, by foreign foes and domestic 
traitors ; never have been more insidious, persevering and ma- 
levolent attempts to corrupt public opinion ; to undermine the 
foundations of religion, to cut asunder the sinews of moral ob- 
ligation, and to cover this happy land with carnage, desolation 
and ruin. Let us then with enthusiasm hail the birth-day of 
our Sovereignty. Let us summon all our energies against the 
artifices of secret intrigue, and the aggressions of open hostili- 
ty. To animate your patriotism, and inspire you with all the 
ardor of violated liberty ; to render you feelingly alive to the ne- 
cessity of united vigorous measures of defence, to rouse up your 
generous indignation at the unprovoked abuses practised by a 
foreign nation of gigantic power, permit me to call back your 
attention to that period, not far past, when all that was dear to 
you as members of society and subjects of government, was 
suspended over the gulf of ruin ; when you rose up with an in- 



382 AN ORATION. 

vincible courage, and, in the voice of united thunders, announc- 
ed to the world that you were free, sovereign and independent. 
On that great and trying occasion, what were your feelings ? 
Did you tamely submit to the usurping arm of foreign domina- 
tion ? Did you surrender your liberties, without a struggle or a 
sigh ? No, Americans, you did not ; you acted the part of men 
worthy of liberty ; you displayed the standard of freedom ; you 
drew the sword of vengeance ; you discharged the thunderbolt 
of destruction, and, under the protection of heaven, obtained a 
triumph, which glitters in capitals on the pillars of eternity. 
Succeeding years crowned the efforts of our wisdom, and the 
labors of our industry, with a success and prosperity which have 
astonished the world. The establishment of an energetic gov- 
ernment, the cultivation of the soil, the rapid increase of popu- 
lation, the great extension of commerce, the improvement of 
arts and sciences — all combined to perpetuate our freedom, to 
augment our power, and to render us a respectable and invinci- 
ble nation. Guarded by an immense ocean, we hoped to es- 
capee that whirlwind which has long been spending its rage on 
the devoted nations of Europe. We assumed a neutral station : 
our right hand held out the branch of peace, while our left wel- 
comed the persecuted stranger. Britain first smote us with her 
gigantic arm : she listened to our remonstrances, and redressed 
our wrongs. France, irritated at our success in preserving 
peace, determined on revenge. She renewed with additional 
vi gor those secret, insidious arts, which she had long practised 
to control our pubhc councils, and to destroy the confidence of 
the people in the government of their choice. Detected and 
disappointed by the vigilance of our rulers, she threw aside the 
mask, and disclosed her vengeful countenance on the Atlantic. 
Our commerce fell a prey to her all-devouring jaws. The over- 
tures made by our government have been neglected with the 
most haughty disdain, and our messengers of peace treated Hke 
the representatives of a nation destitute of wisdom and power. 
We have now no resource left to vindicate our honor and our 
rights, but our courage and our force. These we trust are suffi- 
cient to defend us against all enemies, whether foreign or domestic. 
We must rank among our disgraces as well as among our mis- 



AN ORATION. 3S3 

fortunes, the existence of a set of men in our country, who 
have derived their pohtical principles from foreign influence and 
foreign intrigue ; who exert their utmost efforts to ruin our 
government, and to prostrate all permanent establishments. 
These men discard, as the effects of superstition, all ancient 
institutions ; and, instead of adhering to an uniform order of 
things, delight in perpetual revolutions. Their system of 
rights, like their system of government, is metaphysic and fan- 
tastical. They do not consider that government is a science 
derived from the experience of ages, and that it ought to em- 
brace the rights and welfare, not of the present age only, but 
of all posterity. They consider the chief magistrate in no other 
view than a private citizen ; government in no other view than 
an affair of temporary expediency or advantage. Thus they 
level that distinction which is the foundation of submission to 
laws ; and reduce a contract the most solemn and important to 
an equality with a partnership in commerce, which kt amy hour 
may be broken off* and dissolved. Let their ideas of govern- 
ment be realized in actual operation, and there is an end of all 
order, peace and prosperity. For how can agriculture and com- 
merce, arts and sciences, be carried on to perfection under an 
administration perpetually changing ? What security has prop- 
erty ? What excitement can there be to industry, where it is 
liable to lose, in one moment, the acquisition of years ? A good 
government will derive assistance from the experience of past 
ages. It will embrace and perpetuate the compUcated mass of 
individual and public rights and interests. It ought to be con- 
sidered as an inheritance to be transmitted from one generation 
to another ; and not as the capricious offspring of a moment, 
perpetually exposed to destruction, from the varying whim of 
popular phrenzy, or the daring strides of licentious ambition. 
The great objects of national importance cannot be obtained, 
except under a political system, rendered permanent by a well 
regulated balance of power ; guarding on the one hand against 
tyrannical usurpation, and on the other against democratic vio- 
lence. Such we conceive is the government of these United 
States. Nevertheless, there are many who view it in a far dif- 
ferent light ; or, because they are conscious of its energy, are 



384 AN ORATION. 

continually advancing opinions and doctrines which tend to its 
subversion. They well know that the people of this country 
are very averse to a government like that of England. They 
take advantage from this circumstance, and are continually ring- 
ing it in our ears, that our government apes the manners of the 
British, and is rapidly changing into that complicated system of 
monarchy, aristocracy and democracy. This representation is 
given, either from ignorance of the British constitution, or from 
a desire to annihilate our confidence in our own. Compare for 
a moment the principal branches of the English government 
with the principal branches of the American. How great the 
contrast ! How wide the difference ! The King of Great Britain 
is independent ; The President of the United States is not. 
The former holds his throne by hereditary right ; a right not de- 
rived from the consent of the people, nor at the disposal of the 
people : the latter holds his office by election, and with the con- 
sent of ♦he people. The President of the United States, after a 
short space of time, descends and assumes his place as a private 
citizen ; the King of Great Britain holds his crown and his 
throne through Hfe. The former is accountable for his conduct 
and liable to impeachment whenever he violates the laws ; the 
the latter is accountable to no human power, nor can he be im- 
peached at any human tribunal. In the king we behold an enor- 
mous power, independent and unimpeachable ; in the Presi- 
dent we behold a power limited by the constitution, and incapa- 
ble of committing abuses with impunity. Can we descry any 
resemblance between these two important branches of the 
American and British governments ? Why then all this outcry 
against the enormous power of our supreme magistrate ? Why 
so many industrious attempts to persuade the people that he is 
an aspiring monarch ? I will tell you : It is because we are bless- 
ed with a group of government levellers, who cultivate those all- 
preserving, democratic virtues, jeolousy and ingratitude. 

In the government of Great Britain is an inheritable peerage. 
The lords temporal and spiritual are independent : they hold 
their seats without the consent of the people, and can hold 
them against their consent. How different the American Sena- 
tors ! Chosen by the people in a constitutional mode, they are 



AN ORATION. 385 

wholly dependent for their power on the people ; and must, af- 
ter a prescribed term, revert to their places as private citizens. 
Great Britain has an house of commons. In this branch lies 
the only share which the people have in the government, and 
here their influence is very small. For the commons consist of 
all such men of property in the kingdom as have not a seat in 
the house of lords. The knights which represent the counties 
are chosen by the proprietors of lands ; and the citizens and 
burgesses, who represent the cities and boroughs, are chosen by 
the mercantile part of the nation. Hence the inequality of re- 
presentation is so great in the house of commons, that the peo- 
ple rank this among their greatest grievances. We can discov- 
er no resemblance between the British house of commons and 
our house of representatives. In short, the most important 
branches of the British government are independent and heredi- 
tary : all branches of the American government are dependent 
and elected. Who but a madman, or an enemy to our country, 
could have had the effrontery to assert, that our government 
is formed after the British model ? Our government is our own, 
and so long as we adhere to it, we shall be a people free, inde- 
pendent, and invincible. 

Another sentiment strenuously maintained by the enemies of 
our government, is, that the union of the states is an aflair of 
occasional convenience or advantage ; and that any State, when- 
ever she sees fit, has a right to denounce the proceedings of 
Congress, and to secede from the great political body. These 
positions are advanced with a view to impede the energy of the 
Federal Government, and even to undermine its foundation. If 
admitted and reduced to practice, they will render the execution 
of laws utterly uncertain ; and in case of foreign invasion, will 
expose the government to destruction and the country to devas- 
tation. The advocates of these strange political opinions seem 
not disposed to profit by past examples. They are like those 
fanatics who look for all wisdom in themselves ; '^ and such never 
fail to find it." I would cite them to the states of ancient 
Greece, at the time of the Persian invasion, under Xerxes. Had 
these states been united under a common government ; had they 
49 



336 AN ORATION. 

been responsible to some supreme controlling power ; they 
would not, through fear and jealousy, have deserted the public 
cause, and have left the Athenians and Spartans to oppose the 
immense army of Asia. One would suppose, that in a time of 
such pressing danger, a sense of the necessity of indissoluble 
union, would have had the force of a law, to compel all the 
states to engage in the common cause. But the reverse took 
place. The haughty monarch of Persia, taking advantage of 
the disunion of his enemies, pressed forward, marked his steps 
w^ith fire and hlood, took the city of Athens, which his general 
Mardonius, soon after entirely destroyed. This example is a 
loud warning to us, that a country divided into a number of 
independent States can have no safety but in union, and no 
union but in responsibility to a supreme controlling power. I 
vi^ill hazard the assertion, that the States of Greece suffered more 
from their internal dissentions and divisions, which arose from 
the want of a Federal Government, possessed of a power over 
them all, than they did from all their foreign wars. Is it not 
the part of prudence, to profit by the errors, as well as by the 
wisdom of past ages ? Is it not the part of folly, in the present 
advanced state of the science of government, to admit an idea 
which the example of all the ancient independent republics, 
reprobates, as the fruitful source of division, violence and de- 
struction ? 

Those metaphysic knights in the science of civil policy, who 
have attempted the subversion of our government, have done no 
small mischief by the perpetual use of certain words and phrases, 
which, though they conveyed no definite meaning, yet were 
calculated like the incantations of magic, to blind, seduce and 
mislead the unwary. ''Liberty, Equality, Rights of Man;" 
these are the ensigns armorial of the whole tribe of political 
speculatists ; these they hold up to the people, with a view to 
change real liberty into licentiousness ; real equality into mur- 
derous violence ; and the real rights of man into indiscriminate 
plunder. The indefinite phrase, " Rights of Ma/i," seems to 
imply, that man is born into the world with certain connatural 
political rights. This cannot be true, for government is the 
creature of man's invention and wisdom, and is founded on the 



AN ORATION. 387 

compact of men in society. If man has any political rights 
which he can claim, it is because he is a member of the political 
system, or a partner in the great community of rights attached 
to the government under which he lives, whether this govern- 
ment is formed by his contemporaries, or inherited from his 
ancestors. But man, considered as such, has but one right, that 
of self-preservation. The phrase, "Rights of Man, ^^ has been 
lavishly thrown out in this as well as in other countries, with a 
view to persuade the people that their government was an arbi- 
trary engrossment of power ; that it was an unreasonable re- 
straint on their passions and energies ; that as it denied them 
certain rights which they might claim because they were men, 
it ought to be demolished and buried in ruin. The direct ten- 
dency of the doctrine styled "Rights of Man,'' ^ is to disquiet 
the people, to set them at variance with their rulers, to fill all the 
grades of society with an unreasonable jealousy of each other, 
and to change the order of civil institutions into the anarchy of 
barbarous association. 

Let us for a moment contemplate the magical, wonder-working 
word, " Eq,uality." This, in the French cavalcade of death, 
is harnessed up behind liberty. That fair goddess is with reluc- 
tance dragged into the train, and thrust forward, that her charms 
may introduce the infernal procession which troops behind her. 
The revolutionary demagogues of our country talk much of 
equality. They assure us, in their indefinite, unquahfied lan- 
guage, that all men are equal. To ascertain whether this asser- 
tion is true, we must recur to fact and experience. Nature, so 
far from having made all men equal, has made them very une- 
qual. All men have not the same strength and activity of body 
— all have not the same endowments and energies of mind. 
These are facts which speak in a language too plain not to be 
understood. Nature no where yokes up a dwarf with a giant, 
or a Newton with an ape. Amidst her mighty profusions of 
endowments, we discover an instinctive wisdom, fitting the 
numerous parts of this stupendous whole to their several places ; 
arranging them by orders, differences and contrasts, so as to 
constitute one perfect system, whose parts are never all young, 



388 AN ORATION. 

nor oldj nor equal, but supported in a beautiful diversity through 
a perpetually dying and reviving universe. 

Society no less than nature makes great differences and 
inequaUties among men. When the road to acquisition is equally 
open to all — when the laws equally protect every man's person 
and property — all men will not possess the same spirit of enter- 
prize — all will not obtain accession of wealth, of learning, virtue 
and honor, equally extensive and important. The industrious, 
prudent citizen, will gain vast quantities of property, while the 
negligent and idle will remain in the depths of poverty. To ' 
the last, the doctrine of equality is like the music of angels. 
Energized by the sound, he rouses from his lethargy, and revels 
on the divided spoils of his wealthy neighbor. That men in the 
social state are equal as to certain rights — that they ought to be 
protected in their persons and property, while they conduct as 
good citizens, will undoubtedly be admitted. This, however, is 
a very different kind of equahty from that which the promulgers 
of this pernicious doctrine intended to introduce. Their schemes 
of wicked ambition were, to overturn all the estabUshed govern- 
ments in the world, and to obtain an unlimited control over the 
minds and bodies of men. Nothing could be more immediately 
conducive to this purpose, than to render all the subordinate 
ranks of society dissatisfied with their condition. This was to 
be accomplished by persuading them, that the governments 
under which they lived were unjust and oppressive ; that all 
religion was a vain and idle superstition ; that there was no 
difference in men, except what arose from arbitrary violence ; 
that the few who had acquired great wealth had no better right 
to it than the many who had acquired none ; and that nothing 
could restore genuine liberty but the prostration of every dignity 
and of every advantage, whether derived from the industry of 
man, or the bounty of God. The advocates of this pernicious 
system of equality, in the career of their opposition to the laws 
of nature and society, have expressed their fervent displeasure 
at that respect which long has been, and I trust long will be, 
attached to eminent and dignified men, exalted to the higher 
stations in government. This is an important part in the sys- 
tem of universal disorganization. For if you destroy all res- 



AN ORATION. 389 

pect for magistrates, you destroy all confidence in them ; and 
leave no security for the existence of liberty or laws. The cry 
of our levelling democrats is, '• respect the majesty of the peo- 
ple." — -Where are we to look for the majesty of the people, ex- 
cept in the persons exalted to office by the suffrages of the peo- 
ple ? These are the characters whose public administrations 
are to shew whether the people have any majesty. The phrase, 
" majesty of the people," in its modern acceptation, brings into 
view such an indefinite object, made of every gradation of char- 
acter, from wisdom to folly, from virtue to vice, from aspiring 
ambition to brutal stupidity ; that it serves only to perplex the 
mind, by rendering its views vast and irregular. We hope the 
American angle of vision is not sufficiently large, to take in that 
indescribable farrago of majesty, with which our modern level- 
lers are so much enamored. We hope we have still judgment 
enough to distinguish merit, and gratitude enough to reward it. 
We are willing that the laws of nature, and the principles of 
civil association, should still be followed. We have not yet lost 
all regard for ancient institutions and ancient wisdom. We 
respect our magistrates ; we esteem and protect the ministers of 
our holy religion ; we embrace as our brethren all our worthy 
fellow-citizens ; we form our political system after the great pri- 
meval model which descends from the source of infinite wisdom ; 
which combines in one harmonious whole, principalities and 
powers, and exhibits in one vast and brilliant assemblage, millions 
of different dignities, without envy and without revolution. 
Peace, and order, and rational liberty ; these are the objects to 
which we are invincibly attached. If once illumined by the 
transforming doctrine of equahty, we shall see the whole estab- 
hshment of nature reversed. Walking on enchanted ground, 
we shall see vales usurping the place of mountains ; rivers whirl- 
ing back to their sources, and skies falling to embrace the earth. 
We shall see huge whales sporting on the Andes, and clumsy 
bears flouncing in the Pacific. The planets in their courses will 
litter censure at their Maker, and the moon will repine at the 
splendor of the sun. When we are transformed into complete 
levellers, we can overleap, at one bound, all the mighty differ- 
ences established by infinite wisdom ; and, without a seeming 



1 



390 AN ORATION. 

disgust at the junction of eternally jarring principles, shall con- 
gratulate ourselves that we have escaped the drudgery of human 
prudence, and emerged into a region of perfect day. 

Another cause vv^hich has had an extensive influence in pro- 
ducing and propagating erroneous notions respecting the nature 
of civil government, and w^hich has rendered great numbers of 
people jealous and unhappy, is either an ignorant or designed 
misrepresentation of liberty. All restraints on the feelings, 
passions and actions of men, have been considered as the arbi- 
trary mandates of a tyrant. It has generally been asserted, that 
w^hen man quits the savage for the social state, he resigns a part of 
liberty to secure the rest. From this erroneous sentiment have 
originated the most violent invectives against those measures of 
government, which limit at a certain boundary the exercise of 
civil rights, and render men responsible for the abuse of those 
rights. What liberty has man in the unsocial, uncivilized state ? 
I conceive he has none, which properly comes under the idea 
of liberty. True he is exempt from the restraints of law : he is 
also destitute of the protection of law. He consults no will, and 
no power but his own. Every man, therefore, in an uncivilized 
state, is either a tyrant or a slave. No one can be sure of the 
produce of his labor, or of the safety of his person. Visionary 
theorists may amuse themselves with their pompous descriptions 
of the hberty of uncovenanted man ; but fact and experience 
will tell us, that he has no liberty but in a society governed by 
laws which control every man's will, and protect the weak 
against the strong. What is called liberty in any other state, 
is properly the liberty of doing mischief. It is hcentiousness or 
despotism. Government is by no means founded on what are 
called natural rights, but on conventional agreement. Every 
man in the uncivil state claims a right to every thing. Of con- 
sequence, every man sets himself up for a tyrant. War and 
bloodshed ensue, till the strongest arm determines whose right 
is best founded. Every man in the uncivil state claims a right 
to be the judge of his own cause, and the avenger of his 
own wrongs. He relinquishes both these rights when he 
enters into society. He now has a claim to assistance and 
protection from the aggregate wisdom and force of the com- 



AN ORATION. 391 

munity. Every right which he now possesses, rests on 
the social compact. He cannot now conduct himself in any 
way that is repugnant to established laws and constitutions. 
These prescribe the rights of every individual, and these alone 
secure genuine civil liberty. In the social state, every man is 
at liberty without any responsibility to extend and to use his 
rights, so far as they do not interfere with the rights of others, 
or with the general good of the community. The moment a 
man abuses his rights, with respect to the character, persons or 
property of others, he becomes responsible, and deserves pun- 
ishment. For if no man is responsible for the abuse of his 
rights, society and liberty, with all their advantages, are de- 
stroyed. 

A good government is a system of restraints on the actions 
and passions of its subjects. All good citizens will rank 
these restraints among their rights, and not among their 
grievances. A spirit of rational liberty exults in submis- 
sion to the control of just and salutary laws. It considers 
these as its only asylum against violence and outrage. A 
spirit of licentiousness is impatient of all restraint, delights in 
perpetual revolutions, and always measures its right by its pow- 
er. Some of the citizens of these states consider our govern- 
ment as too complex in its structure, and too expensive in its 
operations. They confidently assure us, that a simple house of 
representatives with a speaker, would fully answer every object 
of national importance. The simplest forms of government 
will generally secure some individual objects better than the more 
complex ; but they commonly leave the most important concerns 
unguarded. Every one who is versed in the political histories 
of nations, knows that the ends to be obtained by government 
are numerous, often difficult of access, and, when obtained, dif- 
cult to be secured. No simple direction of power can possibly 
be accommodated to the complexity of human affairs. Hence 
it is that the due distribution of powers, so as to secure 
the greatest number of advantages, with the fewest incon- 
veniences, has been considered, by the most profound poh- 
ticians, as the most difficult part in the mechanism of civil 
institutions. In governments where there is but one branch of 



392 AN ORATION. 

power, there is no security for liberty. Simple democracies, 
whether managed by the whole people assembled, or by their 
representatives, have always proved as tyrannical as the most 
despotic monarchies, and vastly more mischievous. It is in vain 
to substitute theoretical speculations in the place of facts. The 
modern zealots of revolutionary reform may tell us that the sci- 
ence of government is of all others the most simple ; that a na- 
tion, in order to be free, needs only an exertion of will ; but the 
experience of ancient and modern times will tell us that the 
science of government is of all others the most intricate ; be- 
cause it is to be deduced from principles which nothing but ex- 
periment can develope : and that a nation, in order to be free, 
needs some wisdom as well as will. But our reeking dema- 
gogues, in order to accomplish their designs of demolishing all 
permanent establishments, address themselves to the stubborn 
principle of will, and guide it, not by convincing the under- 
standing — not by presenting a certain prospect of improved 
liberty and happiness — but by irritating the feelings, rousing up 
the passions, and loading the soul with a sense of unreal griev- 
ances. 

The enemies of our own and of all other established govern- 
ments, in order to give complete success to their schemes of de- 
struction, have attempted to exterminate all religious and moral 
principles. They well knew, that if men would not fear and 
obey the Supreme Being, they would not any subordinate being. 
Hence it is, that such efforts have been made to discredit the 
doctrines of natural and revealed religion. Hence it is, that 
cargoes of infidehty have been imported into our country, and 
industriously circulated to corrupt the minds and morals of the 
rising generation. Efface the idea of a supreme controlling 
power from the minds of men and you leave none of those ex- 
alted motives, none of those aspiring principles of perfection, 
which have excited, adorned and animated the greatest geniuses 
of ancient and modern times. No government, except absolute 
despotism, can support itself over a people destitute of religion ; 
because such a people possesses no principles on which govern- 
mental motives can operate to secure obedience. The most 
salutary laws can have no effect against general corruption of 



AN ORATION. 393 

sentiments and morals. The American people, therefore, have 
no way to secure their liberty, but by securing their religion ; 
for there is no medium between an entire destitution of religion 
and the most deplorable servitude. No nation, however igno- 
rant and barbarous, except one, has ever attempted to support 
a government without some respect to a Supreme Being. Let 
us then guard with the utmost vigilance against those domineer- 
ing, abandoned and arrogant philosophists, who consider them- 
selves as the asylums of wisdom, and the oracles of truth ; who 
assert that there is no standard of moral rectitude ; and are 
striving to persuade man, that to be perfect, he needs only for- 
get every thing exterior to himself, and suffer all his actions to 
be guided by the impulses of his own nature. These sentiments 
if reduced to practice, will undoubtedly destroy all moral, civil 
and social obligations. For how can men form societies, insti- 
tute governments, and cultivate arts and sciences, who will be 
guided by no laws, and controlled by no power out of them- 
selves ? Each one considers himself a deity, and yet conducts 
like a brute ! Each is an instinctive animal, and yet a perfect 
intelligence ! Such are the effects of renouncing religion — of 
substituting speculation in the room of experience ! 

We are called upon as citizens and as men, by the highest 
motives of duty, interest and happiness, to resist the innovations 
attempted on our government ; to cultivate in ourselves and 
others the genuine sentiments of liberty, patriotism and vir- 
tue. After a long series of peace, prosperity and happiness, 
you are threatened with all the horrors and cruelties^ of war. 
The tempest thickens around you, and the thunder already be- 
gins to roar. A nation hardened in the science of human butch- 
ery ; accustomed to victory and plunder ; exonerated from all 
those restraints by which civilized nations are governed, lifts 
over your heads the iron sceptre of despotic power. To terrify 
you into an unmanly submission, she holds up to your view 
Venice, shorn of her glory ; Holland, robbed, degraded and de- 
based ; Switzerland, with her desolated fields, smoking villages 
and lofty cliffs, reeking in blood amidst the clouds. In the full 
prospect of this mighty group, this thickening battalion of hor- 
rors, call up all your courage ; fly back to the consecrated altar 
50 



394 



AN ORATION. 



of your liberty, and while your souls kindle at the hallowed fire, 
invigorate your attachment to the birth-day of your independ- 
ence ; to the government of your choice ; feel with additional 
weight the necessity of united wisdom, councils and exertions, 
and vow to the God of your fathers, that your hves and for- 
tunes ; that every thing you esteem sacred and dear ; that all 
your energies and resources, both of body and mind, are indis- 
solubly bound to your sovereignty and freedom. On all sides 
you now behold the most energetic measures of defence. All 
is full of life, and ardor, and zeal. The brave youth, the flower 
and strength of our country, rush into the field, and the eye of 
immortal Washington lightens along their embattled ranks. 
Approach these hallowed shores, ye butchers, who have slaugh- 
tered half Europe — you will find every defile a TnERMOPYLiE, 
and every plain a Marathon ! — We already behold our fleet 
whitening the clouds with its canvass, and sweeping the ocean 
with its thunder. The Galhc flag drops to American valor, 
and our intrepid sailors sing victory in the midst of the tempest. 
— Brave men ! you will fight for your country while an inch of 
sinew stretches on your bones, or a drop of blood throbs in your 
veins ! — Fellow Citizens, it is not by tribute, it is not by submis- 
sion — it is by resolution, it is by courage, that we are to save 
our country. Let our efforts and our wisdom concentrate in the 
common cause, and shew to the world, that we are worthy that 
freedom which was won by the valor and blood of our fathers. 
Let our government, our religion and our liberty, fostered by 
our care, and protected by our exertions, descend through the 
long range of succeeding ages, till all the pride and presumption 
of human arrangements shall bow to the empire of universal 
love, and the glory of all sublunary grandeur be forever ex- 
tinguished. 



i 



AN 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 



TO A COURSE ON THE PHILOSOPHICAL PRINCIPLES OF 



RHETORIC AND CRITICISM: 



DESIGNED FOR THE 



SENIOR CLASS OF THE SOUTH CAROLINA COLLEGE, 



AND DELIVERED IN THE PUBLIC CHAPEL ON WEDNESDAY, 



APRIL 8, 1817. 



As the following lecture contains a number of impor- 
tant positions, with regard to the grounds and princi- 
ciples of Philosophical Criticism ; the nature, use, and 
end of language ; positions, to which I shall have fre- 
quent occasions to recur, I judged it expedient to pro- 
cure a few copies struck off at the press, solely for the 
use of my pupils. By having the Lecture before them, 
they will easily make themselves masters of its con- 
tents ; and will thus be prepared to comprehend and 
retain with much greater facility, my subsequent in- 
structions. 






INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 



My principal object, in the following course of lectures, is to 
unfold the principles of rhetoric and philosophical criticism. 
To do this in a manner satisfactory to men of profound erudi- 
tion, of extensive research and cultivated taste, requires abilities 
and resources, to which I can have but small pretensions. On 
subjects which have been so frequently and so learnedly treated, 
little of novelty ; little of originahty, is to be expected. If by 
bringing into view and reducing to a scientific system those 
principles, on which the art of rhetoric is founded, and from 
which the rules to guide us to just decisions in the productions 
of genius and taste, are derived, I can be so fortunate as to ex- 
cite the curiosity of my pupils ; to enlist their ambition in the 
attractive pursuits of polite learning ; to improve their taste 
and enliven their genius ; to expedite the evolution and culti- 
vation of their mental powers ; to accelerate their progress in 
elegant literature and genuine philosophy ; my ambition will be 
gratified, and my labors rewarded. 

Rhetoric, or oratory is the art of speaking, so as to convince 
and persuade. From its very nature and end, therefore, it ad- 
dresses not only the understanding, but the will. Its province 
is not only to present truth, and duty, and interest, to the intel- 
lective powers so as to convince, but to the active and moral, so 
as to persuade. When we consider man merely as a contempla- 



398 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

tive philosopher, it is sufficient, that his understanding be 
enhghtened ; but when we consider him as an accountable being 
endowed with passions, with moral feelings and active energies ; 
a being stationed in society where he has various obligations to 
fulfil, weighty duties to discharge, high interests to pursue ; a 
being possessed of elective and conscientious faculties ; who can 
recognize himself when he acts, and can feel the obligatory force 
of law ; a being, who by his own powers can forward the per- 
fection of his nature, beyond any assignable Umits, and by the 
practice of virtue can secure the enjoyment of endless felicity ; 
when we consider man in these respects, we feel the want of 
something more than a cold display of truth ; we feel the neces- 
sity of engaging his sensibiHty by spreading before him the 
charms of beauty ; of rousing up his imagination, by all that is 
grand, sublime and awful ; of firing his passions, and through 
these, engaging all his powers of body and mind, in supporting 
truth and virtue, and branding vice and falsehood with eternal 
infamy. The orator's skill consists in a great degree in working 
on the active powers of man. He ought to be thoroughly ac- 
quainted with all the springs of human action. He must pry 
into the inmost recesses of the heart, and fully understand the 
passions, the laws of their growth, continuance and decay; 
their innumerable modifications in the innumerable and ever 
varying circumstances and characters of men. In short, he must 
thoroughly understand the sensitive branch of man's nature ; 
for here we are ultimately to look for all those laws which ought 
to govern the productions of genius in History, Poetry, and 
Eloquence, so far as the manner of their execution is concerned. 
No one will understand the art of rhetoric, unless he traces it 
up to its scientific principles. These undoubtedly exist in the 
nature of man, and he who is ignorant of them, can neither 
judge with accuracy, nor execute with skill and success. Art 
is natqre methodized. Indeed we may safely assert, that, the 
principles of all arts and sciences exist in nature. To develope 
these, is the province of the philosopher. Let us now for a 
moment turn our attention to Philosophical Criticism. By this 
we are to understand application of scientific principles to the 
productions of art and genius, with a view to ascertain the 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 399 

beauties and defects of the latter, and to adjust their intrinsic 
and comparative merits. — There can be no ground for criticism 
unless there is a standard to which the productions of art ought 
to conform. 

The powers of taste render us sensible to the impressions of 
beauty ; and so far as these impressions are made by art, the 
powers of intellect, enable us to assign the reasons of them, and 
to refer them to their legitimate origin. Hence the study of 
scientific criticism becomes an interesting and noble employment, 
suited to the nature of man, calculated to furnish him with the 
most valuable knowledge, that of himself; calculated to yield 
the purest pleasures, to elevate him in the scale of being by 
refining his sensibility, and invigorating his understanding. 

From this slight sketch, you will readily perceive that the 
principles of Oratory and Criticism virtually embrace the prin- 
ciples of all those arts which are denominated fine. For the 
productions of these are all addressed to man as a being, en- 
dowed with reason, sensibility to beauty, imagination and pas- 
sions. More efiectually to excite your attention, and enable 
you to appreciate the importance of the subjects of the follow- 
ing lectures, I shall now briefly point out some of the advantages 
which may be expected from a scientific study of the principles 
of rhetoric and criticism. 

This study will enable us more fully to comprehend the na- 
ture of language, and to estimate its great importance and use. 
Language has by universal consent, become the universal vehi- 
cle of knowledge. Words, when spoken, are addressed to the 
ear, and are signs of ideas ; but when written, are addressed to 
the eye, and are signs of articulate sounds. 

Words do not answer their end in the same manner as pic- 
tures do : they are not to be considered as representative sub- 
stitutions, formed on the principle of resemblance ; but as arbi- 
trary signs adopted by voluntary convention. Words when spok- 
en or written, do not convey ideas to the mind by imitation or 
picture ; but by suggestion. By the habit of connecting a par- 
ticular idea with a particular word, a connexion so intimate is 
formed between them, that as soon as the latter is spoken or 
written, the former enters the mind. The expressive power of 



400 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

words depends almost entirely on this connection. It must, 
however, be remembered that the meaning of words is often 
greatly altered by. the particular place which they happen to oc- 
cupy in discourse. Superficial or careless thinkers, are very apt 
to suppose that every word in a discourse stands for a particular 
idea. So far is this from the truth, that many words will be 
found to derive their whole meaning from the place they occupy 
and the relation they sustain to others. On slight reflection we 
are apt to suppose that, that language would be the most perfect 
which had a particular word for every idea, but experience will 
soon convince us that, that very circumstance would render a 
language almost useless. It would not answer even the purpos- 
es of social intercourse ; much less of science and ratiocina- 
tion. 

Let g,ny one make the experiment, let him attempt to carry 
on a train of reasoning or discourse, without the use of what are 
called complex or general terms ; and instead of these, let him 
give a distinct enumeration of all the parts of the complex or 
general ideas for which those terms stand ; he will soon find his 
words so numerous, and his circumlocutions so embarrassing, 
that he will be bewildered and lost amidst his own effort, and 
utterly incapable of advancing. Hence it is, that in all languag- 
es, nearly all the words are general ; they are universal terms 
expressive of the highest genera, or most extensive comprehen- 
sions. It may then be asked — How then can particulars be ex- 
pressed ? I answer, by making a skilful use of the wonderful 
arts of speech, by which the meaning of words is appropriated, 
limited and modified, according to the various exigencies of the 
mind. Hence we see the vast importance of thoroughly study- 
ing the principles of Grammar. These by some philosophers 
have been compared to the foundation of a palace, which, 
though it is the most important part, and sustains the whole su- 
perstructure, is nevertheless most (^ut of sight, and least noticed. 
Language is so familiar to us from our infancy, that we are apt 
to consider the particular study of it as unnecessary and use- 
less. — Why should we waste our time in learning words ? Per- 
mit me to say, that if you learn words as you ought to, you will 
learn things, and things of the highest importance. 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE, 401 

Language is a most wonderful art, the greatest of all arts. It 
was invented by the mind to expedite its own purposes, and to 
improve its own powers. Hence the principles and laws of 
mind pervade the structure, and govern the modification of lan- 
guage. Hence, while you are studying words, if you study 
them as a philosopher does, you are studying the powers, laws, 
and operations of mind ; you are studying a science which un- 
folds the principles, and prescribes the laws and rules of all arts 
and sciences. 

Let those therefore who affect to look with contempt on the 
study of languages, remember that they betray their own igno- 
rance of the most sublime pursuits that ever occupied the mind 
of man. So intimate is the connexion between science and a 
well arranged language, that some have asserted that to learn 
a science was only to learn a language. Words were first used 
merely for the communication of thoughts and sentiments. As 
the social state advanced in civilization and refinement ; as the 
increasing exigencies of man called forth his corporeal and men- 
tal exertions ; as arts and sciences grew and flourished ; words 
multiplied, new modes of phraseology were invented, until lan- 
guage became what we now find it, a wonderful instrument of 
of art, to aid the intellectual powers in the acquisition, reten- 
tion and communication of knowledge. The study of language 
when considered as an instrument of thought, is highly curious 
and interesting. The advantages of it as a vehicle of our 
thoughts to others are obvious ; but its use as an aid to our men- 
tal operations and processes of solitary speculation, is not so ob- 
vious ; though equally great and more indispensable. 

The next advantage arising from the scientific study of Rhet- 
oric and Criticism is, that it will furnish us with a more perfect 
knowledge of our internal constitution, and enable us more ef- 
fectually to cultivate and improve our intellectual powers. 
Though truth is, in its nature uniform, yet in its appearance, it 
is various. Hence in our inquiries after it, we are obliged to 
adopt different modes of investigation, and to recur to different 
sources of evidence. In matters of pure abstract science, all 
we require is consistency in the mind's conception. — In things 
of an historical nature we recur to testimony. In things belong- 
51 



1 



402 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

ing to mind, its various modifications and passions ! its laws and 
powers ; we recur to consciousness. As to the existence and 
reality of material things, we recur to our external senses. In 
estimating the productions of genius in literature and in the fine 
arts, we recur to taste. This, however, is not to be considered as 
a simple power, a mere sensibility to beauty ; but as a complex 
faculty, the result of various mental powers highly improved. 
Taste is not merely sensitive, but discerning. In literature, it 
implies a clear, lively and distinct discernment of all that is true, 
just and beautiful in sentiment and style. The operations of in- 
tellect are involved in all the just decisions of taste. The pow- 
er of taste is therefore to be considered as a discerning faculty, 
a kind of natural reason and sensibility wrought up to perfection 
by exercise and study. It is not confined to literature ; it ex- 
tends to all arts and sciences, and to all branches of knowledge, 
assigning to each its appropriate and comparative merit ; point- 
ing out what is beautiful and useful in each, pruning what is re- 
dundant, supplying what is deficient ; and though infinitely di- 
versified in its principle, yet always preserving the beautiful and 
the true in each kind, and on every subject dispensing the grac- 
es of style with prudence and wisdom. In critical examina- 
tions of the productions of genius, in History, Poetry, and Elo- 
quence, we constantly recur to the powers, laws, and operations 
of mind. No exercise, therefore, is better calculated to culti- 
vate the principles of taste than Philosophical Criticism. None 
is better calculated to enlarge and perfect our knowledge of 
mind. Here are we to look for the origin of all those charms 
for which the works of Genius in the fine arts and in oratorical 
composition are distinguished. Genuine Criticism requires the 
union of Truth and Taste, and refers all that is really elegant 
and sublime in composition, to the principles of a sound logic. 

Nothing excellent, orderly or beautiful, was ever produced 
by chance. It is mind that creates, inspires, adorns and governs 
all things. The object of all genuine philosophy, is the investi- 
gation of principles, and the application of these to the explana- 
tion of Phenomena. Principles are of two kinds, experimental 
and rational. The former are general facts, found by observation 
universally to obtain, and are referred to as data, to explain 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 403 

other facts which they involve. These principles are obtained 
by experiment and by observation of facts. The method of 
proceeding is, in modern physics by analysis, which resolves the 
compound forms of matter and motion, into their constituent, 
elementary parts. What is called natural philosophy, appears 
to me more properly denominated natural history ; since it takes 
facts, and not causes, for principles. 

This is indeed, all that physics can do ; for its legitimate ob- 
ject, is not to find out necessary connections, but constant con- 
junctions ; not to investigate elementary causes ; but to exhibit 
sensible facts. But we must remember that facts are not, phi- 
losophically speaking, principles ; but effects, which flow from 
them. True philosophy takes an higher aim. Her objects are 
powers and primary causes ; and these she obtains by a regular 
analysis. Rational principles are obtained by the exercise of 
our intellectual faculties, in analysing the conceptions of the un- 
derstanding, whose evidence rests on intuitive perceptions. In 
this mode of proceeding, we have as much certainty as we can 
have by experiment ; for we are not more certain of our exist- 
ence, than we are of the perceptions of our own minds. Expe- 
riments may present facts to the understanding, but cannot de- 
velope principles ; these lie beyond the region of sense, and must 
be sought for by reason ; for this is the proper instrument of all 
truth. While investigating the philosophical principles of Rhe- 
toric and Criticism, we are occupied wdth mental phenomena. 
These are proper subjects of observation, and contain in them, 
the principles of all our knowledge of mind, as much as the ap- 
pearances of the visible world contain the principles of all our 
knowledge of matter. Hence, Criticism assumes a scientific 
form, and rests on a basis not less certain, than that of natural 
philosophy. To the young, the study of Rhetoric and Criticism, 
is vastly more attractive than that of the abstract sciences ; and 
eminently calculated to excite their curiosity, to evolve, invig- 
orate and perfect the intellectual powers. 

The pleasures of these elegant pursuits, are less remote than 
those of pure intellect, from the province of sense and imagina- 
tion ; are enjoyed with less effort of abstraction ; and by con- 
stantly exercising the powers of taste, diminish the fatigue of 




404 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

mental labor ; and while they enliven and expand the imagina- 
tion, by presenting the attractions of beauty, they excite and 
invigorate the powers of the understanding, by a rigid discipline 
in practical Logic. On subjects naturally agreeable, habits of 
reasoning are insensibly formed, and the mind gradually prepar- 
ed for the highest exertions of intellect. By a constant reference 
to the laws and powers of the human mind, we acquire an ex- 
tensive knowledge of this subject, and lay a sure foundation for 
a more just and rational mode of education. In the midst of 
our favorable anticipations of future improvement, we must be 
cautious in Rhetoric and Criticism, not to attribute too much 
efficacy to rules and precepts. Nature must lay the foundation 
of all that is truly excellent and meritorious. Every man is 
undoubtedly born with the germs of all the powers which he 
ever afterwards displays. Art may improve the gifts, but can 
never supply the barrenness of nature. All our powers exist in 
a state of mere capacity ; subsequent occurrences and exigencies 
call them forth into energy. Had we the means of accurate and 
continued observation, it is probable that every man would 
appear equally great, in every period of life. The utility of 
rules consists in this, that by directing our exertions in a proper 
train, they will enable us to compass their objects with the few- 
est errors, and the most complete success. 

We greatly err, if we imagine that the first poets, orators and 
historians, were formed by the scientific system of philosophers 
and critics. 

On the contrary, the first great writers, by the unaided pro- 
ductions of their own genius, gave rise to criticism. Ancient 
Greece in her happiest days was, the seat of learning, civihty 
and arts. A crowd of illustrious performers burst at once on the 
view, and by the mighty toils of genius, astonished and delighted 
their cotemporaries. The Greek philosophers the subtle inves- 
tigators of principles, were led to pry into the causes of these 
wonderful effects. Hence, among them, criticism was a deep 
and thorough search into the principles of good writing so far 
as these were sanctioned by existing productions. Aristotle, the 
systematiser of Plato, in his treatises on rhetoric and poetry, 
unfolded with wonderful penetration, the elementary principles 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 405 

of these arts. He reduced criticism to a scientific form, and 
presented its principles in such an alliance with philosophy, that 
we can call it by no better name than philosophical criticism. 
He united truth and taste, blended the light of reason, with the 
graces of beauty ; and added the completions of art to the in- 
ventions of genius. Criticism opened a most extensive field 
and presented as objects of investigation, the nature of man, 
his intellect, imagination, passions and the innumerable modifi- 
cations of character of which he is susceptible in every stage of 
life, and in every condition of society. 

Hence all the means were explored, by which the orator, the 
poet and the historian, accomphshed their several objects. 
Words became objects of high consideration and subjects of 
critical scrutiny. They were distributed into their various 
kinds ; their powers in numerous composition both in poetry 
and prose, were ascertained and their meaning defined. Inqui- 
ries were instituted into the various sources from which materials 
were to be drawn, to enlighten the understanding, to excite and 
allay the passions. Thus philosophical criticism opened a vast 
field of inquiry for the grammarian, the rhetorician, the orator, 
the logician and the moralist. From this view of the subject it 
appears, that language is, in its structure so interwoven with the 
laws and powers of mind, that a true knowledge of the former, 
implies a knowledge of the latter ; and that grammar, rhetoric 
and logic, are so nearly united, that they are more properly de- 
grees of the same, than systems of different sciences. In various 
instances, our corporeal and mental powers appear to be subject- 
ed to the same laws, and to be susceptible of improvement from 
the same methods of discipline. It is universally admitted, as a 
truth that all our powers both of body and mind gain strength 
by exercise. This is abundantly evident in the wonderful facil- 
ity and dexterity produced by exercise in all mechanical opera- 
tions. Philosophy as yet, has done but little towards furnishing 
a rational method of improving the mind. 

All that has been heretofore done on this subject, is merely 
tentative ; nor can much farther be expected, until the powers 
and laws of the human mind, are more thoroughly explored, 
and more clearly developed. When this shall be accomplished, 



406 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

it will not be deemed extravagant to hope, that such efficacious 
methods of exercise and discipline, will be devised, as will com- 
municate strength and skill, with as much certainty and success 
to our mental, as to our corporeal powers. Of this we shall 
find Httle reason to doubt, when we consider that wonderful 
part of man's constitution, by which he is susceptible of habit. — 
How this gains ground and is estabhshed either in body or 
mind, it is perhaps impossible for us to say, except, that such is 
the will of God. The fact is undeniable ; and is the only 
ground of all our ability and skill in corporeal or intellectual 
operations. Susceptibility of habit, distinguishes man from all 
other animals, no less than his intellect and moral sense,, Some 
animals are in a degree capable of an increased facihty in per- 
forming certain mechanical operations ; but they are wholly in- 
capable of those high attaintments which result from invention 
and voluntary discipline. None of the lower classes of animals 
can improve on their own productions, or on those of their pre- 
decessors. Their first effort of skill, is as perfect as their last. — 
Man alone has the power of forwarding the perfection of his 
nature beyond any assignable limits, by the voluntary exercise 
and discipline of his own powers. 

By blending with the study of mental philosophy, those arts, 
whose principal object is beauty, we may reasonably expect, that 
the former will be pursued with greater ardor, and be crowned 
with greater success ; that more judicious methods of instruc- 
tion and discipline will be invented, and all intellectual powers 
more completely evolved, and carried to their highest degree of 
perfection. 

Another benefit resulting from the scientific study of rhetoric 
and criticism, is, that it will enable us to cultivate with greater 
hopes of success, the most valuable of all arts, oratory. 

The high importance and extensive utility of this, are uni- 
versally admitted. We should therefore justly expect, that ora- 
tory would be studied and cultivated with the greatest assiduity 
and zeal ; and that no means would be left untried to facilitate 
its acquisition. So far from this, we scarcely find it made a part 
of the course of education, pursued in our public Colleges and 
Universities. Scarce an instance can be found, in which even 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 407 

a single Professorship is instituted, for the cultivation of this 
subHme and noble art. Neither pubhc patronage, nor private 
munificence, has yet called forth the efforts of the learned and 
ingenious, for reviving and improving the study and practice of 
eloquence. 

From considering the neglect and degradation of oratory, 
we should suspect either, that the subject itself were embarrass- 
ed with insurmountable obstacles ; or that the ends of this art 
could be obtained by means less expensive and laborious. It is 
a position generally admitted, that eloquence will flourish, in 
every nation, in proportion as the government is free. The first 
governments instituted over men, w^ere despotic monarchies. 
In these the people felt no interest. 

They had no share in the public concerns of the state ; they 
were treated as inferior beings, crushed under the arm of power, 
and swayed by fear. The annals of the world furnish no trace 
of eloquence, until we come to the Democratic States of An- 
cient Greece. Here the affairs of the state, were deliberated on 
discussed and decided, in the assemblies of the whole people. 
He who could have most influence in these, w^as master of the 
State. Here fame, wealth, honor, and power waited on the 
steps of the orator. Place men in the same political situation^ 
in any other age or country, and the same effects will follow. 
It must however be observed, that such governments as the pet- 
ty democracies of ancient Greece, are utterly impracticable, a^ 
mong people spread over extensive districts of territory, repre- 
sentative governments can never be so free, nor can they be so 
tyrannical, as small democracies. 

Such governments as those of the individual, and of the Uni- 
ted States, possess as high a degree of freedom as is practicable^ 
or desirable ; and afford ample scope for the powers of the ora- 
tor. We must not, however, expect that the world in her old 
age, when the sciences have gained the ascendency over the 
arts ; when men are swayed more by reason and judgment, than 
by fancy and passion, will bring forth such vigorous children, 
as in the days of her youthful maturity. Among the various 
causes which might be assigned for the decay of oratory in 
modern times, I shall mention only one ; I mean the neglect of 




408 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

the language of the fancy and passions. Language, in its com- 
mon acceptation, is limited to words, either written or spoken. 
Language thus understood would probably answer every pur- 
pose, did man possess no power but intellect. This however is 
far from being the case. He possesses fancy and passions. 
These constitute a most interesting branch of his nature. They 
are furnished by nature with a language peculiar to themselves ; 
a language which without art or study instantly expresses all 
their impulses, movements and modifications. On this lan- 
guage depends all that is forcible, affecting and sublime in ora- 
tory. — Words are sufficient to convey what are called ideas, but 
are absolutely incapable of expressing our internal feehngs, sen- 
timents and passions. 

Words of course cannot supply the exigencies of the orator, 
since they furnish him with no means of operating on the active 
powers of man. It may then be enquired, what more is want- 
ed ? I answer the language of looks, tones and gestures. 
These constitute a natural language formed by God himself, and 
intelhgible to all men, in all ages, and nations. By looks and 
gestures only, all that passes in the mind, may be completely 
conveyed. For the truth of this, I appeal to the ancient panto- 
mimic representations. In these, not a word was spoken ; the 
spectators were interested, agitated, transported ; they laughed, 
wept, rejoiced, and fell by turns all the passions and sentiments 
peculiar to man. It was even a contest, between the great Ro- 
man Orator and Roscius which could express a sentiment most 
forcibly, the former by words, or the latter by look and gestures. 
Thus, we may safely assert, that words are not even an indis- 
pensable part of language ; and yet this is all or nearly all, to 
which the modern teachers of eloquence pay any attention. 
No wonder that eloquence is not heard when she has lost her 
tongue ! Can this be restored ? Undoubtedly it can. What 
has been done once, can be done again. The ancients perfect- 
ly understood this language. All that is now wanted to revive 
it, is the attention and labor of ingenious men, to copy it from 
nature and reduce it to system. 

Looks and gestures, constitute a language of external signs. 
These are the work of Nature herself, and they exactly corres- 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 409 

pond to their internal cause. All men, from their birth, know 
this language, and can with the utmost certainty and facility, re- 
fer every external sign, to its internal principle. This is more 
evident with respect to the more vigorous emotions and passions. 

These are marked with a distinct sign which is never misun- 
derstood either in kind or degree. The other less vigorous are 
marked by a common sign sufficiently distinct and legible to in- 
dicate their nature. One who has not paid particular attention 
to this subject, will not readily beheve or conceive the exact 
harmony, with which the external form and powers of man are 
adjusted to his internal sentiments and passions. What internal 
feeling, passion, or sentiment, cannot readily and clearly be 
pointed out, by the motions of the hand, head, eyes ; in short, 
by all the features of the countenance, and by all the attitudes 
of the body ? To these add the expressive power of tones. 
These vary and modify, almost indefinitely, the meaning and 
force of any form of words. The accounts of the effects of 
Ancient Oratory seem incredible ; but when we consider what 
a powerful instrument language was, as used by the Ancients, 
consisting of words the most expressive, delivered in tones sug- 
gested by the sentiment, and these all accompanied by looks 
and gestures, each of which would constitute a powerful medi- 
um of conveyance ; our incredulity will vanish, and we shall 
be filled with astonishment and admiration at human skill and 
genius. While destitute of the knowledge and use of language 
in its fullest extent, we are ignorant of some of our noblest pow- 
ers, and deprived of some of the highest enjoyments of which 
we are capable. That part of our constitution which is the seat 
of the fancy and passions, is at present almost wholly barren, 
and uncultivated. These limbs of our constitution, which have 
withered in a palsy, of two thousand years, must be revived by 
the galvanic pile of wealth, and honor and fame, and restored to 
to the pristine health and vigor. 

Let the youth under the most accompHshed rhetorical teach- 
ers be carried through as long a series of laborious exercises, as 
those who are destined for mechanical labor ; and we need not 
despair to see another Cicero and Demosthenes. 

The scientific study of rhetoric and criticism, will keep alive 
52 



410 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

all their subsidiary branches of literature and science, and by 
promoting a taste for all the arts of elegance and beauty, will 
contribute to individual happiness and public prosperity. Hav- 
ing delivered w^hat I propose as an introduction to a course of 
lectures to the senior class of this college, I now^ come to a close 
lest I should trespass upon the patience of my audience. 



APPENDIX, 



The Rev. Asa Messer, D. D., LL. D., late Presi- 
dent of Brown University, published several occasional 
Sermons, Orations, and Addresses, which are full of 
that sound, practical wisdom for which he was so emi- 
nently distinguished. The Editor believes he shall 
gratify Dr. Messer's numerous pupils and friends, as 
well as the reading public generally, by adding the fol- 
lowing Addresses which are a fair specimen of the 
other productions of his powerful pen. His concep- 
tions strong, distinct and animated, are expressed in a 
style terse, simple, and vigorous. 



t 



AN 



ADDRESS, 



DELIVERED TO THE 



GRADUATES OF BROWN UNIVERSITY, 



AT THE 



COMMENCEMENT, 

SEPTEMBER 4, 1811. 



BY ASA MESSER, D. D., 

PRESIDENT OF BROWN UNIVERSITY. 



AN ADDRESS 



Your future prosperity, Young Gentlemen, will greatly de- 
pend on your choice of a profession for life. Should you choose 
no profession at all, you would, having no stimulus, be likely to 
live with no industry or enterprise ; and of course with no use- 
fulness, respectability, or satisfaction. Should you, while nature 
would give you one profession, give yourselves another, this 
might be even worse than none at all : it might keep you ever 
strugghng both against wind and tide. It is hence important 
that you should ascertain the profession which nature would 
give you. 

Nature, Young Gentlemen, will never work contradictions : 
she will never build castles in the air : she will never require 
you to move the world, unless she will allow you a place to 
stand on : she will never give you a birth, which she will not 
fit you to fill. 

On what profession, then, do you think of entering? Do any 
of you think of entering on the profession of Law ? This pro- 
fession undoubtedly stands near the door of promotion. Men 
educated in the school of law will ever fill the high offices of 
our nation. From them the President of the United States, the 
Secretaries, the Ambassadors, the Judges, and a great portion 

* This Address is now first published from the original manuscript. 



416 AN ADDRESS. 

of the members of Congress will generally be selected. By them 
therefore, notwithstanding the excellent republican form of our 
government, the important destinies of our nation will actually 
be directed. By them will be decided the great questions of na- 
tional pohcy, whether we will have peace or war ? whether we 
will assert our rights, or neglect them ? whether we will follow 
the direction of others, or of ourselves ? whether we will go on 
to perfection with that political system which is portrayed and 
guaranteed in the great charter of our nation, or abandon it 
like a rotten vessel unfit to stem the billows of the deep ? 
whether, in fact, we will merit the blessed privileges of freedom, 
or the cursed privileges of slavery ? — 

By them also, especially through the medium of the press, 
will that pubhc opinion be always, in a great measure, guided, 
which itself will always in a great measure, guide all our civ- 
il policy : so that in the legal profession, we may expect ever to 
find our most influential agents, as well in the election of our 
rulers, as in the enaction and execution of our laws. 

By them, moreover, better perhaps than by any other men, 
may those oppressions be prevented or redressed, which spring 
from the avarice or malignity of private persons ; and these, 
though they may make less uproar, may not make less mischief 
than those which spring from the ambition or madness of public 
rulers. Superadded, therefore to your desire of promotion, 
principles of patriotism and of benevolence might induce you 
to turn your attention to the pursuits of the bar. 

Notwithstanding all this, I would, however, advise you to 
make inquiry, whether you possess the qualifications which may 
enable you to discharge with honor the arduous duties of this 
profession ? whether you possess the genius, the acumen, the 
studiousness, and the perseverance so indispensable in the char- 
acter of a lawyer ? And whether also you possess the general 
inclination and habits which harmonize with the general busi- 
ness of the profession ? Destitute of these you should not al- 
low yourselves to doubt in the case. The voice of nature, 
which is the voice of God himself, will forbid you to expect 
celebrity either in the study or the practice of Law. 

Should you, after all, actually make choice of this respecta- 



AN ADDRESS. 417 

ble profession, I would remind you that, following the proper 
design of it, you will stand the avowed patrons and advocates 
of the principles of justice. Never, then. Young Gentlemen, 
never allow a violation of them in yourselves ; and never advise 
it in others. Never allow yourselves to stand on the side of un- 
righteousness. Never allow yourselves to assist a villain to cov- 
er the wages of his wickedness, or to screen himself from the 
righteous penalty of the Law. In favor of the man, who, by 
fraud, keeps back the wages of the hireling, or the mite of the 
widow, or the crumb of the orphan, never allow yourselves to 
make a plea any sooner than in favor of the Neros, the Caligu- 
las, or the Alexanders of the earth. 

Should you, having chosen this profession, choose also to di- 
rect the influence it may give you to the direction of the public 
opinion, and of the consequent civil poUcy of the nation. I 
would also remind you that even here you should still stand the 
avowed advocates of the same principles ; and hence I would 
also exhort you ever to defend and to promote the great prin- 
ciples of our government, the principles of civil and religious 
freedom ; for they all stand on the ground of inflexible justice. 
I would especially exhort you ever to keep burning in your own 
breasts that patriotic fire which was ever burning in the breasts 
of the great pillars of the American liberty and Independence ; 
and, amidst all the contentions of party politics, ever to hold 
your fellow citizens as members of the same family with your- 
selves, and never to allow to any other nation the right of abus- 
ing, or controlling, or directing your own. 

Do any of you think of entering on the profession of Theolo- 
gy ? This, indeed, is a noble profession. The glorious gospel 
of the blessed God exhibits the greatest blessings ever given to 
man. What blessings can possibly be greater than the pardon 
of sin and the justification by grace flowing in the blood of the 
everlasting covenant ? Than the restoration to the favor of God, 
the consolations of his love, the joys of his salvation, the glories 
of his kingdom, promised in the the gospel to all the followers 
of the Lamb ? What service can possibly be more dignified, 
more valuable, or benevolent than to proclaim these inestimable 
blessings to the guilty children of men ! The service of the 
53 



\ 



418 AN ADDRESS. 

faithful preacher of the gospel we may venture to say, is, of all 
the services he can perform, the most consoling to himself, the 
most beneficial to others, the most acceptable to God. — To the 
proper performance of this service, however, pecuhar, important 
qualifications are indispensably necessary ; and of these a most 
essential and prominent one is a moral taste congenial with the 
doctrine of the gospel. A preacher destitute of this, can nev- 
er discharge his duty either with pleasure to himself, or with 
profit to others. To a thoughtless worldling, or a giddy sensu- 
alist, or a vain, unprincipled man of honor, what but irksome 
drudgeries must be the solemn duties devolved on every preach- 
er, of comforting the mournful, of visiting the sick and the dy- 
ing, of binding up the broken in heart, of proclaiming liberty to 
the captive, and the opening of the prison to them that are 
bound, of standing as a pillar in the house of God, and discus- 
sing, defending and enforcing the awful, important truths of our 
holy religion ? And how by such a man can these solemn duties, 
if discharged at all, be discharged with advantage? In general 
also, especially in this country, the services, however worthy or 
faithful, of a great portion of our preachers, will command but 
very moderate compensations. If money, indeed, is your ob- 
ject, you may gain it better by plowing than preaching. Un- 
less, then, you heartily love the doctrine of the glorious gospel, 
and heartily desire to proclaim it among your fellow men ; if 
you feel no conviction of duty in the case, no necessity laid 
upon you to preach the gospel, and no woe denounced against 
you, if you preach not the gospel, even worldly principles, and 
much more the principles of religion, but especially the awful 
woe which religion denounces against those who run when not 
sent, should induce you to seek a living in almost any profession 
sooner than in the profession of Theolog)\ 

This sacred profession, should any of you follow it, will re- 
quire you to stand as the defence of the gospel, as the pillars and 
ground of truth. Should you, then, be afraid of the truth, or 
ashamed of it ? Should you in any case strive to keep the truth 
at the bottom of the well, or to bar up the way against the pro- 
gress of it ? As the pillars and ground of truth you should ever 
stand prepared to meet it, to defend it, to enforce it, to follow 



AN ADDRESS. 419 

it ; and you should never willingly allow it to be held in bond- 
age, or in disgrace by any of the dogmas, or traditions, or au- 
thorities of men. You here should allow nothing but a sense of 
duty to carry you into the field of theological controversy : for 
then you will be liable to sacrifice the truth of God, not less 
than the love and peace of men. And you should avoid, or 
give up all the principles or practices, which, however favorable 
to your friends or yourselves, stand not on the ground of truth, 
and tend not to the defence of the gospel. You should, therefore, 
cherish in yourselves the meekness, the candor, the charity, and 
the forbearance, not less than the ardor, the industry, the faith- 
fulness and the perseverance so remarkable in the hves of the 
primitive preachers. 

Let you follow what profession you may, I hope you will 
still stand the patrons and advocates of the Christian religion. 
This was the religion of the venerable fathers of our country. 
For the peaceable, unmolested enjoyment of it, they left their 
native land, crossed a boisterous ocean, and settled in a howhng 
wilderness. Here the combined horrors of famine, wild beasts 
and savage men could not lessen their zeal for the welfare of 
this holy religion. They made it, like their daily bread, a sub- 
ject of their daily prayers ; and in all their arrangements for the 
future prosperity of the New World, they made the prosperity 
of their religion a primary object of their attention. Their sons 
followed their example ; and hence some traits of this blessed 
religion are now apparent in almost all the valuable institutions 
of our country. The extinction, therefore, of this religion 
among us would be attended with very extensive and painful 
innovations ; at least with a radical, if not horrible change in 
our systems of education, in our schools, in our colleges, in our 
libraries and hterary societies, and in our habits of thinking, of 
talking and of reading, as well as with an entire subversion of 
our houses of worship, of our religious societies and of our as- 
sembUes for praying, preaching, and hearing, and an entire re- 
Unquishment of our arts of devotion whether in the family, at 
the table, at the bed of sickness, or in the house of death. 
Could a patriot desire innovations like these ? Would they not 
endanger our morals, our freedom, our safety ? Would they 



<^i* 



420 AN ADDRESS. 

not fill our land with barbarous cruelty, with horrible licentious- 
ness ? And would they not render it more fit to be the land of 
any other set of men, than the land of the devout, puritanical 
founders of New England. As long as you live, I beg you. 
Young Gentlemen, to remember, that a primary reason both for 
the first settlement of this country, and for its subsequent growth 
and prosperity must be found in an ardent attachment to 
the Christian religion. Both your filial, and your patriotic 
affections might, therefore, induce you to respect and befriend 
the religion of Jesus. 

This religion, moreover, is the religion of God himself, the 
Father of lights, the great Father of you all ; and in your belief 
and practice of it He has suspended your everlasting welfare. 
Ought you to doubt a moment whether you will revere or obey 
a religion like this ? a religion revered and obeyed by the first 
and the best men in the land, and fitted to render it forever a 
land of justice, order, freedom and safety ; of truth, peace, love 
and joy ? a religion sanctioned by the supreme Jehovah, flowing 
from the spring of all perfection, and rendering benevolent and 
happy all its followers ? and a religion too, which, should you 
all possess it, would bind you all indissolubly together, though 
scattered among the remotest nations, would finally bring you 
all, glorified class-mates, immortal, blessed brothers, into a land 
of perfect, unchanging friendship and pleasure ? No, my young 
friends, God forbid ; and I exhort you, now in the last words of 
this address, to measure your progress in moral worth only by 
your progress in Christian love. 



Jjf' 



A 

DISCOURSE, 

DELIVERED IN THE 

CHAPEL OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE, 

TO THE 

SENIOR CLASS, ON THE SUNDAY 

PRECEDING THEIR 

COMMENCEMENT, 
1799. 

BY ASA MESSER, A. M. 

PROFESSOR OF THE LEARNED LANGUAGES. 



i, 



4. •* 



^^-j.. 



'W&^ 



To the Young Gentlemen of the Senior Class, at 
whose request this Discourse was both delivered and 
published, it is now most cheerfully dedicated, with 
ardent wishes for their rapid growth in science, virtue, 
and happiness ; by their most sincere and hearty friend, 

ASA MESSER. 



A DISCOURSE 



As this is the last time, my friends, young men of the Senior 
Class, in which I shall publicly address you as members of this 
institution ; and probably the last time, indeed, in which I shall 
ever address you all publicly and in a body, w^hile I have power 
to speak, or you to hear ; it has been my earnest wish to address 
you on a subject of the greatest importance, and the most befit- 
ting your pre^nt circumstances. Hence, though among the 
great variety of interesting and pertinent subjects which have 
readily occurred, I have had great anxiety in fixing my choice ; 
still, after diligent meditation, I have at length fixed it on the 
subject suggested in the second chapter of St. Paul's epistle to 
Titus, and sixth verse. — " Young men exhort to he sober-minded.'^ 

By turning to your Greek testaments, you will at once discov- 
er that the original verb, here translated "sober-minded,'' is 
compounded of two Greek words, which conjointly signify a 
soundness of mind, or a sound, healthy, reasonable mind. 
Hence Titus is directed, in the text, to exhort young men to 
possess and cultivate a sound, healthy, reasonable mind ; and I 
can think, young men, of no exhortation more important in itself, 
or more befitting your present circumstances, whether I consider 
you as candidates for promotion and happiness in this life, or in 
the next. — In discoursing on the subject of this exhortation, I 



h 



424 A DISCOURSE. 

intend to bring into view only a few of the many particulars, 
which are essential to a soundness of mind, and to draw from 
them some practical inferences and reflections. 

I. It is essential to a sound mind to believe the eternal exist- 
ence, and the infinite perfections of God. No man in the ex- 
ercise of reason can make himself believe that nothing is the 
author of something ; or that he himself has never had a begin- 
ning; or that the world and its component parts have no 
existence. Hence every such man must allow that there must 
be some eternal being. For, if there is no eternal being, it is 
manifest that there was once a time, when there was nothing 
in existence ; and consequently, that whatever is now in exist- 
ence, had its origin in nothing. But an eternal being must be 
self-existent ; and a self-existent Being must be necessary ; and 
a necessary being must be unchangeable ; and an unchangeable 
being must be all-perfect and glorious ; and such a being is the 
very God we are seeking. — Let it be only granted that the world 
and its component parts are existent, and not eternal, that is, 
not unchangeable, and that something cannot originate from 
nothing, which certainly none but a distempered mind will refuse 
to grant, and then none but such a mind can deny what the 
apostle asserts, that " The invisible things of Ij^m from the cre- 
ation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things 
that are made, even his eternal ^ower and Godhead.^^ There is 
no way, indeed, of avoiding the conclusion, that there is a God 
of infinite, underived perfections, but by denying the most plain 
suggestions of common sense, and by asserting tenets, which 
nothing but downright madness can induce a man to believe ; 
that the world, that we ourselves, have no creator ; that the sun, 
planets and stars, are upheld without any upholder, and govern- 
ed without any governor ; that all the phenomena of the heavens 
are the offspring of chance, or nothing ; that all the beauty, 
order and contrivance on this earth, are accidental, and without 
design ; that the mineral, vegetable and animal kingdoms, are 
expressive of no wisdom, direction or control; and that even 
the curious and wonderful mechanism of man is the effect of no 
cause, the token of no contrivance. These, and numberless 



.' -i.. 



A DISCOURSE. 425 

Other most gross absurdities, are essentially connected with the 
belief of atheism. On the very principle that we believe that 
any work of art is the effect of an artist ; that a watch was made 
by a watch-maker, we must believe that we ourselves, and the 
whole universe, are the effects of infinite, eternal power ; that 
we were made by Him, who has neither a variableness, nor the 
shadow of a turning, 

II. In a christian land, it is essential to a sound mind to be- 
lieve that the Bible is the word of God. In proof of this, I 
will suggest the following observations : 

1. A certain knowledge of future events lies wholly beyond 
the reach of man. No man can tell exactly what will happen 
even to-morrow ; much less what will happen an hundred, or 
a thousand years hence. It is as inconceivable that man, by his 
own reason, should gain a perfect knowledge of distant, future 
events, as it is that he, by his own strength, should annihilate 
the universe. The creation of all things from nothing is not a 
greater display of infinite power, than the foreknowing of all 
things is of infinite knowledge. Hence there can be no great- 
er absurdity than to imagine that any Being but God can fore- 
know future events, or give an exact account of them before 
they arise, — In the bible there are many predictions of events, 
which were not to happen until a great length of time after the 
predictions w^ere made ; and which also were wholly improbable, 
and contrary to ail human foresight or expectation ; yet, at the 
time appointed, it has been found that those predicted events 
have exactly corresponded with the predictions. Hence it is 
clear, that those predictions must have been dictated by the 
spirit of God ; and that the bible, which contains them, must 
be divine. Must not that be a divine revelation, which more 
than seventeen hundred years ago, gave a historical account of 
the unnatural and dreadful convulsions, and even of the mon- 
strous infidelity and atheism, which, at this day, pervade and 
torment the nations of Europe ? 

2. The power of working miracles, or of suspending or chang- 
ing the course of nature, is certainly the prerogative of God 
alone. If you have evidence that a man, by a bare command, 
54 



m 



426 A DISCOURSE. 

has made a dry way through the midst of a sea ; or has given 

health to the sick, speech to the dumb, sight to the bUnd, or 
Ufe to the dead, you cannot possibly doubt but that man must 
derive especial assistance from the great invisible source of 
power. Surely none but God himself can be the author of such 
deeds. Hence Moses and the prophets, Jesus Christ and his 
apostles, must have been assisted by the special agency of God 
himself. For it is as reasonable to believe that the miracles 
ascribed to them were the effects of no cause at all, as to beheve 
they were the effects of human power, or of any power less 
than infinite. Consequently they must have been the special 
agents of God, commissioned to manifest his counsels to men. 
The nature of things does not, indeed, admit a stronger proof 
of a divine revelation, than that which was given at the resur- 
rection of Jesus Christ. As it is certain that none but God can 
raise or animate the dead, he himself must have raised and ani- 
mated Jesus after his crucifixion. Jesus, consequently, must 
have been the son of God, and his religion the pure offspring of 
the divine nature. Let us visit the burying ground ourselves ; 
let us behold a corpse deposited in the earth, and covered with 
clods ; and let us, the third day after this, visit the same ground 
and behold the same corpse inspired with life and vigor ; throw- 
ing off the cumbrous clods, and the funeral attire ; forsaking the 
awful mansion of death, and resuming its former converse with 
friends and spectators ! Must we not be convinced that God is 
there ? Must we not be convinced that whatever information 
this re-animated corpse shall give us, has its origin in the coun- 
sels of heaven ? Must not our minds, indeed, be dangerously 
distempered, if we do not yield to conviction ? Yes, I am bold 
to say, that the resurrection of Jesus Christ was as great a proof 
that he was the son of God, as the nature of things will admit ; 
and that he, who, when that fact is once established, shall deny 
the divine authenticity of the scriptures, is devoid of that sound- 
ness of mind which is essential to a good judgment. 

3. The bible contains in itself a proof of its own divinity. 
The character which it gives us of God, and the character which 
it gives us of men ; the way of salvation which it discloses by 
Jesus Christ, and the system of acting, speaking and thinking, 



A DISCOURSE. 427 

which it every where inculcates ; all its precepts, all its doctrines, 
all its information, though never to be reconciled with a human 
origin, are yet exactly such as might reasonably be expected in 
a revelation from God. No where else can we find so complete 
a description, even of ourselves, as we find in the bible. Let 
us turn our thoughts in on our own hearts, and compare what 
we there find with the character the scriptures give us of man. 
Though this may fill us with humility and astonishment, it will 
still shew us that He, who knows the hearts of men, is the au- 
thor of the bible. No where else can we find such a rational 
and glorious account of the character and government of God ; 
and no where can we find a way in which such imperfect, sinful 
creatures as men are, can be just with God, and made happy 
forever, but in Him, who is the way, the truth and the life. No 
where else can we find a system of morals worthy to be com- 
pared with the morals of the bible. Search among the heathens, 
infidels and Mahometans, both ancient and modern ; search in 
every corner of the globe, you can find no system of morality 
so pure, so perfect, so divine as that you find in the bible. The 
morality here taught is enstamped with the infinite wisdom and 
benevolence of its author ; for it is exactly fitted to exterminate 
the whole herd of noxious passions from the human heart ; to 
dry up the most fruitful source^ of human wretchedness, and to 
give men as great a degree of felicity as their very natures will 
allow. Hence the character of a christian comprises the whole 
cluster of moral virtues ; and they who are the greatest christians 
are the greatest proficients in love, peace, truth, patience, for- 
giveness, impartiality, faithfulness, philanthropy, patriotism. 
Where a man's heart is well enriched with these divine virtues, 
I never expect to find it at enmity with the christian religion. 
Hence, I think, it deserves a serious enquiry, whether an oppo- 
sition to these virtues is not the sole ground of infidelity. 

Hume and Paine are infidels. Locke and Newton are chris- 
tians. Does not the difference of their belief arise wholly from 
the difference of their moral tempers ? But which of them is 
the most worthy your notice ? Will you believe David Hume, 
or will you beheve John Locke ? Will you believe Thomas 
Paine, or will you beheve Sir Isaac Newton ? For which of 



428 A DISCOURSE. 

their talents, or for which of their characters, have you the 
greatest esteem ? Or which of them would you choose for your 
patterns, your patrons, your confidential comrades ? There is 
no doubt. If we examine all the deists, we shall find them gen- 
erally devoid of moral principles, and attached to practices 
which are ruinous to mankind, as well as condemned by the 
bible. Might it not be expected that such men would condemn 
the bible ! Might it not be expected that they would condemn 
that sacred volume, which enjoins on them that very system of 
morals which they themselves are continually violating ; and for 
violating which, where the bible is believed, they are exposed to 
the general disesteem and abhorrence of their fellow men ? Yes, 
men are always ready to condemn what condemns themselves. 
Until infidels reform their characters ; until they practice on the 
divine morality of the bible, and learn to do to others, as they 
would have others do to them, their unbelief can never be an 
argument against the divinity of the bible. 

It is not my design, nor, indeed, is it possible on this occa- 
sion, to bring forward all the arguments in favor of the bible. 
Let it now suffice only to observe, that, on the very principle a 
man rejects the bible, he must reject the authenticity of all an- 
cient records ; He must deny that there were ever such men as 
a Homer, a Virgil, a Cicero ; ewi Alexander, a Csesar, or a 
Charles V. He must deny that a revelation from God can pos- 
sibly be established by sufficient evidence : He must assert that 
all the doctrines of the bible are the inventions of men, though 
they transcend human inventions as much as the sun transcends 
a candle ; he must assert that the authors of the bible were base, 
intriguing impostors, though they have every mark of upright- 
ness, veracity and benevolence : He must assert that the whole 
christian world, and, among the rest, that Boyle, Newton, 
Locke, Clarke, Addison, Barrows, Watson, Campbell, Price, 
Priestly, and numerous others, though the most splendid monu- 
ments of human genius and erudition, were yet a horde of ig- 
norant bigotted dupes : And he must give up all assurance that 
he has any soul more than the brute, or that he shall ever sur- 
vive the slumbers of death. Hence, 

III. It is essential to a sound mind to mve full credit to the 



A DISCOURSE. 429 

whole contents of the bible. There can be nothing more ab- 
surd than to believe that the bible is the word of God, and yet 
to believe that it contains any thing unreasonable, or contradic- 
tory, or unimportant. Whatsoever God reveals, must certainly 
coincide with the nature of God ; and hence, can never inter- 
fere with right reason. Yet it is quite possible that we may not 
perceive the reasonableness of many things, which, in them- 
selves, are wholly reasonable. Our reason, at its best estate, is 
very imperfect; and it is commonly clouded with prejudices 
and passions. Hence it must not be expected that we can fully 
comprehend a revelation from God ; or, that every thing contain- 
ed in that revelation must harmonize with our views. When 
our reason is once satisfied that God has given us a revelation, 
and what are its contents, then, however much those contents 
may differ from our reason, still our reason itself must acknowl- 
edge that they are reasonable ; for nothing unreasonable can 
proceed from God, the source of reason. Hence all the doctrines, 
however mysterious or incomprehensible, which are really con- 
tained in the Bible, are justly entitled to our full belief. 

IV. In this country, subjection to the established civil gov- 
ernment is essential to a man of a sound mind. There must at 
any rate, be some civil government or other ; or else the very 
best part of the community must fall a sacrifice to the very 
worst : All must be danger, disturbance or slaughter. The 
government now established among us is a happy mean between 
those two extremes, which have always been a scourge to man- 
kind. At a distance both from despotism and anarchy, it con- 
sults solely the happiness of the people. Perhaps it lies beyond 
the wisdom of man to devise a government more rational in it- 
self, or more beneficial in its effects, than that under which we 
live ; and perhaps there never was a government on earth, which 
had the patronage of greater or better men, than our own. Let 
all the ancient, and all the modern nations in every part of the 
globe be thoroughly examined, you can find among none of 
them a government worthy to be compared with the American ; 
nor can you find among any of them, more wise, experienced, 
faithful, patriotic, ilhistrious characters, than those who have 



430 A DISCOURSE. 

ever filled our presidential chair. Yet some men are daily 
murmuring against our government, or against its administra- 
tors. What do they mean ? Can they expect a better govern- 
ment, or better administrators ? Can they expect a better gov- 
ernment than that vi^hich originates wholly from the will of the 
people, and which contemplates nothing but the happiness of 
the community at large ? Or can they expect better administra- 
tors than those to whose names not the most splendid epithets 
can give additional splendor ; than George Washington and 
John Adams ? Or can they expect that greater civil benefits 
will arise from any government, than those which now arise 
from our own ? It is incredible. Do they not rather desire the 
subversion of all government, and the introduction of unbridled, 
barbarous anarchy ? I do not contend that there are no imper- 
fections in our civil government ; for it has a human origin. 
But he must be either a knave or a fool, who will murmur against 
it, because it is not perfect. He may as well murmur against 
himself, because he is not an angel. There can be nothing per- 
fect in this world ; and what can be greater folly than to aim 
at what is impossible ? There is scarce a possibility that a bet- 
ter system of government can be adopted, than that now adopt- 
ed among us ; but there is a high probability that, if this system 
were demolished, another would be introduced, full of danger- 
ous anarchy, and cruel, unrestrained, arbitrary licentiousness ; 
where property would be laid open to plunder, character to 
scandal, and life to assassination. If the murmurers against 
our government could only obtain their end, it is reasonable to 
fear that " the reign of terror and blood" would soon bound 
across the Atlantic, and devastate our peace, liberty, learning, 
religion, security, and every thing else which now sublimes our 
natures, or renders even life itself a desirable object. On the 
same principle, therefore, that a man loves these sterling bless- 
ings, or indeed that he loves himself, he will subject himself to 
our civil government, and lend it his cheerful aid. But I must 
hasten to some practical inferences and reflections. And, 

1. I infer that it is as great a mark of folly to deny the exist- 
ence of God, as it is to deny the most plain and certain proposi- 
tion in Euclid. A denial of the existence of God, amounts to 



A DISCOURSE. 431 

an assertion, that nothing can be the origin of the world ; and 
what assertion can be more fooUsh than this ? Is not this as 
fooHsh as to deny that two and two are four ; or that a part is 
less than the whole ; or that things equal to one and the same 
thing are equal to one another ? Yes, young gentlemen, on the 
same principle that you deny the existence of God, you must 
deny the most plain mathematical axioms : You must deny even 
your own existence ; you must deny the existence of any thing 
and every thing in the lump. None but a fool, but a madman, 
can say in his heart, " There is no God." In large, indelible, 
effulgent letters. He has written his existence and perfections on 
your own existence, and on every object which can affect your 
senses. I exhort you to open your eyes, and to read them. If you 
will not, you must give up all pretensions to soundness of mind, 
and you may well lament that you have spent so much time, 
and labor, and money, in this institution. Nay, more, you 
must give up every rational source of consolation. Yes, if you 
will not believe there is a God, you must adopt the ghastly, 
murderous doctrine, that you have no creator, no preserver, no 
benefactor ; that you sprang you know not from what ; that 
you are bound you know not where ; that there is no virtue, 
no vice, no heaven, no hell, no immortal state, no day of right- 
eous retribution, no, nothing which can elevate a man above an 
ox. O cruel, foolish, desperate doctrine ! Let me rather be 
swallowed up alive in the yawning earth, than embrace a doc- 
trine so full of blasphemy, desperation, madness and misery. 

2. I infer, secondly, that nothing but extreme folly or wicked- 
ness can induce a man to desire the destruction of the bible. 
Besides the evidences in its favor, which produce a moral 
certainty that it has a divine origin, the direct tendency of all 
the information contained in the bible, is to advance the happi- 
ness of man. Let its origin be whatever it may, a belief in the 
bible is eminently fitted to exalt the dignity and value of man, 
and to make him a better citizen, a better neighbor, abetter fath- 
er, husband, son. The mind of man cannot even imagine a 
system of morals better fitted to promote both social and indi- 
vidual happiness, than the system contained in the bible. Hence 
he who desires the destruction of the bible not only opposes all 




432 A DISCOUKSE. 

the forcible evidences in its favor, but desires the destruction of 
the most salubrious antidote ever administered to the sorrows of 
man ; of that divine, benevolent system, which is profitable unto 
all things, and which, above every other, has the promise of the 
life that now is, as well as of that which is to come. Let me 
exhort you, young men, to exterminate such a desire forever from 
your hearts. Indulge not even a wish that the bible may be 
false ; for our faith is very apt to follow our wishes. As you 
glory in that natural reason, which elevates you above the brutes, 
and in that improved reason, which elevates you above most of 
your fellow-men, let me exhort you to read the bible, and to ex- 
amine its evidences with that candid spirit which is ever essen- 
tial to the investigation of truth. Let your minds be wholly un- 
biassed by prejudice or passion, and wilhng to embrace truth 
from any direction. Let right reason assume her prerogative 
among your mental powers ; and I have no doubt but you will 
receive the bible with thankfulness, and make it your constant 
companion and guide. At the same time, let me exhort you to 
remember that there is a vast difference between receiving the 
bible, though an imposture ; and rejecting it, though divine. 
Though the bible were really an imposture, you would not in- 
jure yourselves by believing its contents ; for whatever its ori- 
gin, it is certainly fitted, if you will observe it, to make you 
happy : And certainly there can be no great danger in believing 
what has a direct tendency to increase our happiness. But, if 
the bible is divine, your disbelief or rejection of it will be high- 
ly criminal and dangerous. It will not only deprive you of all 
christian consolation in life ; it will not only deprive you of all 
assurance that there will be an after state ; it will not only de- 
prive you of the blessed hope of life and immortality ; it will 
injure you more than this ; it will expose you to the wrath of 
God, and to endless, consummate pain. If this were my last 
dying speech, therefore, I would exhort you to believe and to 
revere the bible ; to treasure up its precious information in your 
minds and hearts, and to make that the regulator of your 
thoughts, words and actions. Remember what the bible informs 
you, that you are the offspring of God, that you are dependent 
on him for every breath, and responsible to him for every thought ; 



A DISCOURSE. 433 

that you have forfeited his favors by your sins, and have 
placed yourselves in a state of guilt and condemnation ; and 
that now you have no way to obtain his smiles, but through the 
merciful interposition of his glorious Son. Remember that there 
is now no other name, than the name of Jesus, given under 
heaven among men, whereby you must be saved ; and that he is 
able and willing to save them to the uttermost who come to God 
through him. I beseech you to go to God in his name, and to 
accept the overtures of peace and pardon proclaimed in the gos- 
pel. 

3. I infer, lastly, that the enemies of our government are the 
enemies of our religion, our country, and of mankind. Wheth- 
er they are all wilful enemies I will not say ; but this I will say, 
that the subversion of our government, which is their object, 
appears to be intimately connected with the subversion of all the 
governments, all the religion, and consequently, all the happi- 
ness of the world. It is not difficult to divine what would be 
the consequence, if these murmuring spirits could obtain their 
object — the most licentious and infernal manners, politics, irre- 
ligion and plunder, would soon be the torment of America ; 
and all the peace, safety, religion, liberty and republicanism on 
earth, would soon be buried in chaos. I exhort you, therefore, 
my friends, to consider the enemies of our government the ene- 
mies of ourselves. Banish them from your company ; and 
associate with none but men of sound, patriotic, American prin- 
ciples. Believe none of their slanderous reports. Let not the 
absurd and barbarous doctrine of political levelists ever disgrace 
your minds. Let not that Jacobinic, diabolical phrenzy, which 
despises all constituted authorities, ever find a shelter in your 
breasts. Hold high in estimation our pohtical fathers, and lend 
them your generous and cheerful aid. I beseech you, young 
men, my friends, my fellow-citizens, to enter into a solemn en- 
gagement with your own hearts, ever to resist every invasion of 
our civil or religious privileges, and ever to patronize that gov- 
ernment, and those rulers, who now, under Divine Providence, 
distinguish us with all our peace, plenty and safety ; with all our 
uncommon civil, social, domestic and religious happiness. 

In finishing this discourse, I most heartily desire to give you 
55 



m m 

■m 
434 A DISCOURSE. 

the very best advice in my power : for your connection with this 
College, which you are now ready to dissolve, has associated 
your happiness very closely with my own. It will always give 
me pain to see any of you in distress or disgrace, but it will 
always give me pleasure to see you all respectable and happy. 
YeSj young gentlemen, I covet for myself the sublime satisfac- 
tion of reflecting that you, who have spent so many years with- 
in these walls, have here formed yourselves for rapid advance- 
ments in every pursuit which can dignify your natures. I long 
to see you the ornaments of humanity, the pillars of science, the 
suns of our civil and religious firmament. Yet the very best 
advice in my power to give you, is contained in my text — " Be 
sober-minded.'^ Believe the existence, perfections and providence 
of God. Believe the glorious gospel of Jesus Christ. Let your 
thoughts, words, and actions, correspond with this behef ; and 
let your affections be fixed on the source of love. Act well 
your parts as men, as citizens and as christians ; and then you 
may ever expect the smiles of a gracious Providence, the love 
and esteem of mankind, and the approbation of your own con- 
sciences. You may ever expect a rich competency of the rich- 
es, honors and pleasures of time ; and you may console your- 
selves with the blessed hope that even your present sorrows as 
well as joys, shall all be made conducive to work out for you, in 
another world, a far more exceeding, and an eternal weight of 
glory. While I bid you, therefore, my most hearty and affec- 
tionate farewell, I cannot but indulge the hope, that you will 
ever cultivate that soundness of mind which a wise and virtuous 
character always comprises ; that, in this way, you will honor 
the place of your education, gratify your friends, and ennoble 
yourselves ; and that you and I may hereafter meet in a more 
happy, glorious state, and take possession of that heavenly in- 
heritance, which is incorruptible, undefiled, and which fadeth 
not away. I entreat you, young men, to substantiate this hope ; 
and I entreat the Father of Mercies to make you all fare well 
both in time and in eternity. AMEN. 



AN 

ADDRESS, 

DELIVERED TO THE 

GRADUATES OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE, 

AT THE 

PUBLIC COMMENCEMENT, 

SEPTEMBER 7, 1803. 



BY ASA MESSER, A. M., 

PRESIDENT OF RHODE ISLAND COLLEGE. 



■■■'.^: 



V'^^'ii' 



1 



AN ADDRESS. 



At this time, young Gentlemen, your situation is peculiarly 
critical. Having just finished your collegiate studies, you are now 
ready to enlarge on the world, and to become personal actors 
in those important scenes, where thousands, for lack of skill, 
have been ruined. In discharging this last official duty, I feel 
solicitous to guard you against similar disasters, and to point you 
to a course whichjshall be safe and happy. — You must all be 
sensible that in this favored land the field of honor and promo- 
tion is open only to personal acquisition. Unless a man inher- 
its the virtues, he inherits not the immunities of his Parents. 
You must, therefore, stand on your own feet. Hence it is es- 
pecially important that you secure the approbation of the wise 
and worthy ; and this you can secure only by adorning your 
characters with a virtuous, persevering industry. A life of in- 
dolence was never designed for man. His external situation 
and internal constitution both require that he should be active. 
Let the circle in which he moves be high or low, he must,if devoid 
of industrious habits be devoid of substantial enjoyment. You 
must not think, therefore, that because you have devoted your- 
selves to literature, you|are free from the necessity of labor. 
No man feels]that necessity more than the scholar. Whether 
you enter on public or private life, therefore, let^me advise you 



43S AN ADDRESS. 

never to imagine that you have any time to spare for useless in- 
dulgencies ; but bear it ever in mind that the most industrious 
man is, other things being equal, the most happy in himself, 
and the most respected by others. 

Like all other habits, hovi^ever, a habit of industry can be pro- 
duced only by a regular, persevering attention. Let this be re- 
mitted but for a short period, and a habit of opposite tendency 
will unavoidably begin to grow. Hence in the very outset you 
should be careful to place yourself in the view of such objects 
as are fitted to excite constant exertion. On this account it is 
highly important that you delay not to draw the plan of your 
pursuit for life. Until you do this, you will be living without 
an object ; and, your minds being in constant vibration, you 
will scarcely know what to do with yourselves. You will be 
more likely to envy the condition of others, than to better your 
own ; and more to subvert, than to promote the end of your 
existence. Though, therefore, you may find it difficult to draw 
this plan, let me advise you to draw it soon. Indeed, you will 
not gain so much by procrastination as you may imagine. Per- 
haps you may not, after ten years consideration, be more pre- 
pared than you now are, to bring your minds to the proper 
point.— At the same time let me advise you in this case to guard 
yourself against rash precipitaition. A wrong step taken here 
may seriously affect you during life. That profession which is 
the best for others, may not be the best for you. Nature has 
formed different men for different stations ; and no man will 
appear well in a station differing from the intentions of na- 
ture. As it is of the greatest importance that you should ascer- 
tain what these intentions are in this particular, you will be 
careful to examine, not the honor and emolument attached to 
any station, but the nature and extent of its duties ; and to 
compare them with the tendencies of your own minds. You 
may be certain that nature never intended you for a station 
which you are not qualified to fill ; and you may be certain also 
that you are not qualified to fill a station which involve duties at 
invincible variance with your own minds. In this case let the 
success of others be ever so great, you must expect none for 
yourselves ; for no man, unless he loves his duty, will|discharge 



AN ADDRESS. 439 

it with advantage. — Hence if you shoula ifiink of entering on 
the profession of law, you should examine, not what others have 
done or gained in that profession, but what you yourselves can 
do or gain ; not what a high way it has opened for the promo- 
tion of others, but whether you yourselves are pleased with 
the study and practice of law ; and whether you can qualify 
yourselves to discharge with honor the arduous duties of the 
profession. 

To those who think of entering on the profession of theology 
an examination of this kind becomes very solemnly proper and 
important. No arrogance can be more censurable or wicked 
than that, which will allow men, for the sake of lucre, to thrust 
themselves into the ministry. A law of nature in man renders 
it impossible that he should be indifferent to theological truth. 
In his view that truth must ever be attractive^ or repulsive. No 
prospect of honor, or emolument can alter this law. Hence, 
while, a man's heart is not attracted by the solemn truths of 
of theology, must he not, by attempting to explain or enforce 
them, exhibit himself in a very awkward and melancholy pos- 
ture ? Can an office for propagating humility be gratifying to a 
man of pride ? Or will he discharge its duties with faithfulness 
and success ? — As the doctrines of theology are fitted to exalt 
the character of God, and to abase the character of man, it 
seems impossible that any man should inculcate those doctrines 
with satisfaction to himself, or edification to others, until he im- 
bibes the spirit of them, and loves them. Notwithstanding my 
warm attachment, therefore, to a theological profession, and my 
earnest wishes to see it filled with respectable characters, I must 
still entreat you, both on account of your own personal felicity, 
and on account of the prosperity of true religion, never to step 
your feet on the sacred threshold of that profession, until you 
are fully satisfied that the solemn duties of it will themselves 
delight your hearts, and that you are prepared to discharge them 
with advantage to your fellow men. 

The imperfections of human nature are such that but few 
men can render themselves eminent in many things. They 
who grasp at a knowledge of every thing, may generally expect 
to be skilful in nothing. You will find ample room for the ex- 



440 AN ADDRESS. 

ertion of your talents in a single profession. Whatever that 
may be, you will be careful to give it your principal attention. 
— Yet, as there is a strong connection between all the branches 
of knowledge, you cannot render yourselves skilful in any one 
of them while wholly ignorant of the rest. No man, indeed, 
can acquit himself respectably in any literary performance, until 
his mind is enlarged with a stock of general truths. Be guarded, 
then, against these two extremes ; against distracting your 
minds by roaming at random among all subjects indifferently ; 
and against contracting them by attending only to a few sub- 
jects exclusively. 

It is the general expectation that men will acquit themselves 
according to the advantages they have had. Hence but few 
apologies are made for the ignorance of those who have had the 
opportunity of acquiring knowledge. It is, therefore, important 
that you, who have had this opportunity, should give full proof 
that you have improved it well ; and hence that you should 
still persevere in the pursuit of knowledge. For if, calculating 
on your present acquisitions, you remit your attention to study, 
you must soon forget what you have already learned, and revert 
back to the point from which you started, when you first began 
your literary course. 

In your intercourse with men you have need of great cir- 
cumspection and sagacity. You will find them perhaps differ- 
ent from what you now expect ; and, Unless you are especially 
guarded, you may find yourselves obliged to purchase a knowl- 
edge of them at a dear rate. Notwithstanding the maxim 
which is good in law, that " a man is innocent until he is proved 
guilty," you will find it dangerous to confide in any, until you 
have proof that they are worthy. Fatal experience has con- 
vinced many that selfish principles have an extensive influence 
on human actions. You will find most men alive to their own 
interest ; and in general it will be the most safe to commit your- 
selves to them only so far as that interest may induce them to 
befriend you. Yet you will find some in whom you may ever 
confide ; men who would not injure you sooner than they would 
themselves ; and who in adversity as well as prosperity, will 
ever exhibit themselves the patrons of truth, integrity and be- 



AN ADDRESS. 441 

nevolence. Whenever you find such men, give them your 
warmest friendship. Value them more than the wealth of In- 
dia ; and let their virtues be the patterns of your own. — Think 
not, however, that men of this character dwell only in a certain 
place, or bear only a certain name. Names differ greatly from 
things ; though prejudice would often confound them, together. 
As you are privileged with a liberal education, you will banish 
prejudice from your breasts. It is fit only for the ignorant. 
You will thinJi on a liberal scale. You will view men and things 
through the medium of candor. According to the advice which 
the excellent Dr. Watts has given you in his chapter on preju- 
dice, which I beg you never to forget, you will divest yourselves 
of those youthful prepossessions, and local attachments, which 
becloud the mind, and render it unfit for the perception of truth ; 
and you will ever rejoice when the truth is discovered, even 
though it should condemn yourselves. You will then be able 
to guard yourselves against deception, and to confide only in the 
worthy. You will also discover that these must be ascertained, 
not by invidious distinctions, but by personal character ; and 
that true w^orth often dwells with him whom prejudice has 
marked with infamy. 

Your own personal characters should be a prime object of 
your attention. No splendor of talents, nor advances in knowl- 
edge can compensate for the want of moral principles. Even 
vicious men, if they would tell the truth, would tell you that 
they cannot give their confidence to the vicious. The immuta- 
ble distinction between right and wrong is so forcibly impressed 
on the minds of men, that, however wrong themselves, they re- 
quire what is right in others. Be careful then to cultivate a fair 
moral character. Let no temptation seduce you from the path 
of rectitude. Hold the rights of others as sacred as you hold 
your own ; and remember that you have no more right to injure 
them than they have to injure you. As you abhor those who 
injure you, you must expect the abhorrence of those whom you 
may injure. Ever place before yourselves the golden maxim of 
doing to others as you wish they should do to you ; and never 
forget that the way of the transgressor of this maxim is ever 

hard. 

56 



442 AN ADDRESS. 

In this connection it is important to be remembered that there 
is a strong intimacy between moral character and the belief of 
truth. That must be a singular infatuation, indeed, which can 
induce any to expunge the doctrine of belief from their system 
of morals. Let it only be granted that it is no matter what a 
man believes, and it must be granted also that, in a moral view, 
it is no matter what he does. If a man's belief has no influ- 
ence on his practice, that practice will be as destitute of moral 
quality, as is the running of a horse, or the flouncing of a whale. 
If you wish therefore to consider yourselves as rational moral 
beings, you will give no countenance to that most gross, barba- 
rous absurdity. Indeed, there appears to be the same connec- 
tion between the belief and practice of a rational being as there 
is between a cause and an effect ; and therefore, while I exhort 
you to give diligent attention to the things which you practice, 
let me exhort you to give the same attention to the things which 
you believe. 

Hence I must commend to your belief the important princi- 
ples of our holy religion ; entreating you to receive them into 
your hearts and to follow them in your lives. These principles 
received in this way will give you a high elevation on the scale 
of moral excellence. They will incite you ever to act in char- 
acter ; and they will ensure you the good will of all the amia- 
ble beings in existence. They will support you in the hour of 
adversity ; and, when your part on earth is acted, they will un- 
fold to you a more exalted and happy scene, where there will 
be no tears, nor sorrow, nor sickness, nor death ; where friends 
will never separate, but where an uninterrupted blaze of glory 
will forever irradiate and enrapture their souls. 

For these precious principles, my respected young friends, I 
must persuade myself you will cultivate a constant veneration. 
Into this persuasion I am unavoidably led by a reflection on the 
very laudable manner in which you, as a body, have acquitted 
yourselves, while members of this Institution. While I keep in 
mind your regular, studious and friendly deportment, and your 
zealous attachment to law, order and morals, I will not, I cannot 
allow the fear that you will ever disgrace yourselves by adopting 



AN ADDRESS. 



443 



infidel principles or licentious practices. May the rich benedic- 
tions of heaven attend you, while passing through life ; and may 
the precious promises of the gospel support you in the hour of 
death. With these reflections, and hoping that you will receive 
them as coming from a friend, I must now bid you an Affec- 
tionate Farewell. 



AN 

ADDRESS 

DELIVERED TO THE G R A DU AT ES F 
BROWN UNIVERSITY, 

AT THE COMMENCEMENT, 
SEPTEMBER 5th, IS 10. 



BY ASA MESSER, D. D. 

THE PRESIDENT. 



AN ADDRESS. 



Though you, young gentlemen, are now finishing your colle- 
giate course, you are not, I hope, yet finishing your literary 
course. Notwithstanding the respectable progress you have al- 
ready made, there is still, you must be sensible, a long way be- 
tween you and the top of the hill of science. Should you stop 
where you now are, you would resemble those who put the hand 
to the plow and look back. Should you never make any farther 
progress, the progress you have already made would engender 
reproach rather than applause. Reproach, you very well know, 
is apt enough to follow those who reach not the general expecta- 
tion ; and it is the general expectation that those who have had 
liberal advantages should also have hberal attainments. But 
liberal attainments always suggest persevering exertion. If you 
possess them now, you cannot, without this, possess them long. 
Like the water in Tantalus' cup, your treasures of knowledge, 
unless often replenished, will soon waste away. In an entire 
neglect of study, no man can long remain even in statu quo. 
A Newton, a Locke, a Burke, a La Place must, in this case, 
soon begin to fall from their envied elevation. Whether affect- 
ed, therefore, by the hope of rising high, or by the fear of sink- 
ing low in the estimation of the world, you should, at any rate, 



448 AN ADDRESS. 

devote much of your future time to the completion of the litera- 
ry course you have now begun. 

A moral character, however, stands high above a hterary. 
Knowledge, indeed, combined with guilt, will always give to 
guilt itself a blacker hue. To the very worst imaginable image 
of man, to the one exhibiting him as similar as possible to the 
very Prince of the dungeon below, a head the most informed is 
as essential as a heart the most malignant. Let your other at- 
tainments be ever so respectable, they can never become a sub- 
stitute for moral principle : they can never give you the rank 
which this will give you in the eye of the world. Wholly des- 
titute of moral principle, you would, indeed, be wholly unwor- 
thy the esteem, the confidence and friendship of every man on 
earth ; and, without the^e, what on earth can you possibly dis- 
cover, which is worthy a single exertion ? — Were you to fix your 
attention exclusively on the objects of the earth ; were you, with- 
out any regard to another world, to strive to secure the greatest 
possible treasure in thisj were you to feel, what God forbid 
you ever should feel, responsible only to yourselves and to your 
fellow-men, the voice of reason would still direct you to follow 
the path of truth, of justice and benevolence ; to cherish, indeed, 
that moral character, which is fair, unsullied, irreproachable. 

Though this would evidently be the voice of reason, I must 
still remind you that, in such a case, men would not be apt to 
follow it. David Humes are seldom found in the ranks of in- 
fidelity. Infidels in principle are ready to become profligates 
in practice. Affected neither by the fear or the love of God, 
nor by the hopes or fears of a future retribution, men are ready 
to think that " the end will sanctify the means ;" and to say, 
" let us eat, and drink ;" let us curse, and swear ; let us lie, and 
steal ; let us, at all events, gratify our passions and our appetites. 
— Religion, young gentlemen, religion is the great support of 
morality ; and this consideration alone should induce you ever 
to revere and to follow the principles of religion. Can you, 
indeed, once suspect the correctness of the principles which are 
essential to the preservation among men of truth, of peace, of 
order, of justice, of sobriety, of beneficence ; of principles as 
essential to the welfare of nations, of families and individuals. 



AN ADDRESS. 449 

as light and heat and rain are to the progress of vegetation ? 
- — But the correctness of these principles does not depend sole- 
ly on this consideration. Can you even imagine that a watch 
can exist without a maker, or a ship without a builder ? Can 
you in any case allow that a man has made himself, or that a 
world has sprung out of nothing ? Yet these are the very ab- 
surdities and contradictions, which all must virtually adopt, who 
deny the being, the power and the wisdom of God. You must 
therefore, accept the most important principles, the very ground- 
work of all religion ; or you must reject the most important 
principles, the very ground-work of all reasoning. You must 
acknowledge either that there is a God, or that nothing and 
something, reason and madness, black and white, ten and one 
are the very same. 

Can you make yourselves believe that the tongue of man can 
change the very laws of nature ? can cure the fame, the blind, 
the deaf, the dumb ? can stop the wind, the plague, the storm, 
the flood ? can you raise the dead ? Can you make yourselves be- 
lieve that the eye of man can look through the veil which sepa- 
rates the present and the future time, and discern with accuracy 
the production of thousands and millions of events, depending, 
perhaps a thousand years to come, on the voluntary exercises of 
the soul of man ? Can you make yourselves believe that it was 
in the power of any man, at the time of Homer, or Virgil, or 
even of Milton, to specify the events which are this day occur- 
ring in Europe, or America ; or which are this moment occur- 
ring in this town, in this house, on that stage, in this pulpit ? 
Yet such is only a part of the absurd things virtually adopted 
by all who reject the religion generally received in this country, 
the religion of the blessed Immanuel. Never give any counte- 
iiance, then, to the insinuation that this religion befits only the 
weak, the vulgar, the credulous, the ignorant ! 

It would not be less difficult to reconcile such an insinuation 
with a statement of facts, than with the deductions of reason. 
For a number of centuries, have not the talents, the genius, the 
learning of the civihzed world stood principally on the side of 
this religion ? Has not this been the case with the most celebrat- 
ed philosophers, astronomers, poets, orators, historians, mathe- 
57 



450 AN ADDRESS. 

maticians ? those resplendent suns in the literary heavens which 
have poured such a blaze of light on the eighteenth century, 
and given it such a lustre above the twelfth ? In what corner of 
the world can you find a single library, I will not say a single 
book, which is worthy your notice, and which is not principally 
written by men bearing the christian name ? 

The original settlement of our own country, and especially of 
New England, must be ascribed to the indefatigable exertions 
of enterprising, conscientious Christians ; and the subsequent 
cultivation and prosperity of it must be ascribed to similar exer- 
tions of similar men. To them must we look for the origin and 
the progress of our schools, all our colleges, all our social libra- 
ries, and literary societies. And are not these the very stamina 
of our civil privileges ? These precious privileges evidently rest 
on that elective principle which pervades all our civil establish- 
ments ; and will this principle itself be worth anything at all to 
a people destitute of the means of general information ? Where 
can these means be furnished but in our literary institutions ? 
Only let these be abolished ; only let our schools, and colleges, 
and all their appendages be once abolished, and the whole land 
covered with the mantle of ignorance, would soon resemble 
those wretched lands, where the people have no voice at all, 
either in the election of rulers, or the enaction of laws ; where 
a few families, a few individuals, an aspiring villain, perhaps a 
raving madman, or a worthless fool holds in his hand the desti- 
nies of the nation ! On the side, therefore, of the Christian reli- 
gion we may place that consummate wisdom which devised and 
established even the system of civil policy, which &o admirably 
distinguishes us among the nations of the earth. If then you 
would become the associates of the greatest, the wisest, as well 
as the best men, who ever have existed, or who now exist either 
in the old, or the new, and I might say, either in the present, or 
the future world, you should become the associates of the Chris- 
tian family ; you should become the advocates of the christian 
religion. 

I must, however, remind you, that coercion will never enable 
you to promote this divine religion. To force a man to become 
religious would be as difficult as to force him to become intelh- 



AN ADDRESS. 451 

gent, or sympatheticj or forgiving. The Christian rehgion must 
be embraced either not at all, or with a ready mind. — Good will 
to men is a primary principle of this religion ; and can good 
will to men be promoted by the persecution, or the slaughter of 
them ? Can the benevolence of the gospel feed itself on the ma- 
lignity of a crusade ? Young gentlemen, our holy religion will 
not allow you to harm, or to hate even the worst infidels in the 
world, even the worst enemies either of man, or of God himself. 
It will rather require you to love them, and to bless them, and 
and to treat them as you wish them to treat you. — It would 
hence be easy to show that this religion will not allow you to 
make your own a measure for the faith or practice of your 
Christian brethren ; and I exhort you never to feel, or think, or 
act as though God had given to you, or to any man, a mo- 
nopoly of conscience, or a spirit of infallibility. 

To those w^ho possess the requisite qualifications the office of 
a preacher of the gospel will exhibit very many allurements. 
What characters can be more dignified than the ambassadors 
of Christ, than the workers together with God in the salvation 
of sinners ? What employment can be more weighty, or benev- 
olent, than to proclaim the glorious gospel of the blessed God ; 
than to show to guilty men the way to everlasting life ; than to 
bring to a perishing world the unsearchable riches of the cove- 
nant of grace ? — Should objects like these engross your atten- 
tion ; should the glory of God and the welfare of men govern 
your hearts ; should the gospel seem to you to be worthy of all 
acceptation, and should you seem to yourselves to he called of 
God as was Aaron, I should rejoice to see you devoting your 
lives to this blessed work ; and I would implore the God of 
grace to give you strength equal to your day. — Should you, 
however, fix your hearts on objects opposite to these ; on the 
fame, the wealth, the power, the wisdom, the grandeur, the 
pleasure of the world, may God in mercy keep you from waiting 
on the altar. 

I would, in any case, exhort you not to lay up your treasure 
in the present world. What but shadows and bubbles are all 
the treasures of the present world ? If you could possess them, 
you might not enjoy them. Though standing on the pinnacle 



o 



452 AN ADDRESS. 

of human greatness, you might envy the condition of a common 
beggar. A President of the United States, a King of England, 
an Emperor of France, a ruler of the whole world might, indeed, 
be the most wretched man the world itself contams. O how 
worthless, how contemptible will all the kingdoms of the world, 
and all the glory of them seem to a man on a bed of pain, in 
the gate of death, at the bar of God ! — Whether preachers, or 
lawyers, or physicians, or farmers, or merchants, or mechanics, 
you will still be needy, feeble, dying creatures. On no one day 
will you be certain of living till another. At noon encircled 
with all the lures of life, you may at night be encircled with 
all the pangs of death. Your home is in another world. There 
lies your great concern. There you must live forever. There, 
young gentlemen, lay up your treasure. — To that other world the 
closing scene of this day is especially fitted to turn your atten- 
tion. Before the clock shall strike again I shall have finished 
this address ; and probably I shall never again address you as a 
class. Before the sun shall rise again you will be scattered 
abroad ; and probably you will all never meet again, until you 
meet, with an assembled world, at the judgment of the great 
day. May the God of heaven grant that you may there meet 
as friends, as brothers, as the ransomed of the Lord, those who 
have washed their roles and made them ivhite in the Mood ofilte 
Lamb. 



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